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j^UEEN  LOUISE    Visiting   the  Sick 


Al-r.l  >;  r.-'    in 


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w-i»)i<w»i»'«.n».B>'i1.ji>.i-u-».raiMi««j.jjii««^ 


The  Diary  of  a 
Late  Physician 


! . 


Being  a  New  Edition 
of  Selected  Passages 


•Br 
Sstmwl  Wnrr«n,  S.  ®.  L,,,  F.  m.  S. 

Arranged  tr 

©writs  TO«IIs  TOonltan 


1905 

THE  SAALFIELD  PUBLISHING  CO 

NEW  YORK         AKRON,  O.  CHICAGO 


D     KJ)^     ^\ja^  Z>    "VO 


Copyright,  1905, 

BY 

THE  SAALFIELD  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


MADE    BY 

THE    WERMER    COMPANy 

AKHON,    OHIO 


rr 


f^^-'l ^fr^ 


^U^Z 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

Chapter  I. 

Early  Struggles           -        -        - 

7 

11. 

Cancer 

40 

III. 

A  Scholar's  Deathbed 

-        46 

IV. 

Preparing  for  the  House     - 

-        64 

V. 

Intriguing  and  Madness 

71 

VI. 

The  Broken  Heart     - 

93 

VII. 

Consumption     -        -        _        - 

102 

VIII. 

The  Spectral  Dog 

■       131 

IX. 

A  Man  About  Town  -        -        - 

-      139 

X. 

Grave  Doings    -        -        -        - 

-      174 

XI. 

The  Spectre-Smitten 

-      188 

XII. 

The  Martyr  Philosopher    - 

220 

XIII. 

The  Statesman 

269 

XIV. 

Rich  and  Poor   -        -        -        - 

-      325 

XV. 

The  Thunder-Struck 

-      340 

'j^  /.-•S'  V 


434348 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGB 

Queen  Louise Frontispiece 

A  Visit  to  the  Convalescent  ...  126 
Story  of  a  Wounded  Officer  ....  240 
THE  Sick  Wife 350 


INTRODUCTION. 

We  learn  from  the  biographer  that  Samuel  Warren 
was  born  in  Denbighshire,  England,  in  1807.  He  studied 
both  medicine  and  law ;  was  called  to  the  bar,  and  made 
a  Q.  C.  in  1851 ;  was  Recorder  of  Hull,  1852-74 ;  a  Con- 
servative member  of  parliament  for  Midhurst  1856-59 ; 
and  then  INIaster  of  Lunacy.  He  died  in  1877.  In  addi- 
tion to  the  present  work,  he  was  the  author  of  "Ten 
Thousand  a  Year''  ("Tittlebat  Titmouse"),  "Now  and 
Then,"  "The  Lily  and  the  Bee,"  and  several  law  books. 

"The  Diary  of  a  Late  Physician"  first  appeared  in 
Blackwood's  Magazine  and  attracted  much  attention  while 
being  published  serially.  Printed  in  collective  form 
(1832  and  complete  1838)  it  went  through  numerous  edi- 
tions, was  translated  into  several  European  languages, 
and  extensively  pirated  in  this  country. 

The  critics  agree  that  the  nature  of  these  narratives 
may  easily  be  guessed  from  their  title,  and  Warren  very 
skilfully  maintained  the  disguise  of  a  medical  man,  gained 
chiefly  by  his  own  early  introduction  into  a  humble 
branch  of  that  profession.  The  tales  themselves  as  orig- 
inally published  were  of  various  lengths  and  of  very  un- 
equal degrees  of  merit.  They  were  all,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  one  or  two  (which  are  not  important  enough  to 
change  the  general  impression  of  the  reader),  of  a  very 
tragic  and  painful  nature — dark  and  agonizing  pages 
from  the  vast  book  of  human  suffering.  The  style,  though 
occasionally  rather  too  highly  colored,  is  very  direct, 
powerful,  and  unaffected ;  and  the  too  great  prevalence  of 
a  tone  of  agony  and  extreme  distress,  which  certainly  in- 
jures the  effect  of  the  whole  by  depriving  the  work  of  re- 
lief, which  is,  above  all,  indispensable  in  painful  subjects, 
is  perhaps  rather  attributable  to  the  nature  of  the  sub- 
jects than  to  any  defect  of  the  artist. 

By  the  very  nature  of  its  serial  publication,  the  work 
was  somewhat  diffuse  and  uneven.  In  the  present  edi- 
tion it  has  been  the  aim  of  the  editor  to  retain  all  that 
was  essential  to  the  general  impression  gained  from  the 
original,  so  arranged  and  condensed  as  to  bring  it  within 
the  scope  of  the  present  series,  that  it  may  be  a  recreation 
and  not  a  task  to  peruse  it.  The  Editor. 


DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 


CHAPTER  I. 


EARLY  STRUGGLES. 


AN  anything  be  conceived  more  dreary  and  dis- 
heartening, than  the  prospect  before  a  young 
London  physician,  who,  without  friends  or  for-^ 
tune,  yet  with  high  aspirations  after  professional 
eminence,  is  striving  to  weave  around  him  what  is  techni- 
cally called  "a.  connection"?  Such  was  my  case.  After 
having  exhausted  the  slender  finances  allotted  me  from  the 
funds  of  a  poor  but  somewhat  ambitious  family,  in  pass- 
ing through  the  usual  routine  of  a  college  and  medical 
education,  I  found  myself  about  my  twenty-sixth  year,  in 
London — possessed  of  about  £100  in  cash,  a  few  books, 
a  tolerable  wardrobe,  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  animal 
spirits,  and  a  wife — a  lovely  young  creature,  whom  I  had 
been  absurd  enough,  some  weeks  before,  to  marry,  merely 
because  we  loved  each  other.  She  was  the  only  daughter 
of  a  very  worthy  fellow-townsman  of  mine,  a  widower; 
whose  fortunes,  alas !  had  decayed  long  before  their  pos- 
sessor. Emily  was  the  glory  of  his  age,  and,  need  I  add, 
the  pride  of  my  youth  ;  and  after  having  assiduously  at- 
tended her  father  through  his  last  illness,  the  sole  and 
rich  return  was  his  daughter's  heart. 

I  must  own  that  when  we  found  ourselves  fairly  housed 
in  the  mighty  metropolis,  with  so  poor  an  exchequer,  and 
the  means  of  replenishing  it  so  remote  and  contingent, 
we  were  somewhat  startled  at  the  boldness  of  the  step 
we  had  taken.  "Nothing  venture,  nothing  have,"  how- 
ever, was  my  maxim ;  and  I  felt  supported  by  that  un- 
accountable conviction  which  clings  to  all  in  such  cir- 
cumstances as  mine,  up  to  the  very  pinching  moment,  but 
no  longer,  that  there  must  be  thousands  of  ways  of  get- 


th:e.  pjary;  of  a  late  physician 


.ting  .a  •Iw'elihpQd/tG  which  one  can  turn  at  a  moment's 
Wafning:  'And  then  the  swelHng  thought  of  being  the 
architect  of  one's  own  fortune !  As,  however,  daily  drafts 
began  to  diminish  my  £100,  my  spirits  faltered  a  little. 
I  discovered  that  I  might  indeed,  as  well 

Lie  pack'd  in  mine  own  grave, 
as  continue  in  London  without  money,  or  the  means  of 
getting  it ;  and  after  revolving  endless  schemes,  the  only 
conceivable  mode  of  doing  so  seemed  calling  in  the  gen- 
erous assistance  of  the  Jews.  My  father  had  fortunately 
effected  a  policy  on  my  life  for  £5000,  at  an  early  period, 
on  which  some  fourteen  premiums  had  been  paid;  and 
this  available  security,  added  to  the  powerful  influence 
of  a  young  nobleman  to  whom  I  had  rendered  some  ser- 
vice at  college,  enabled  me  to  succeed  in  wringing  a  loan, 

from  old  Amos  L ,  of  £3000,  at  the  trifling  interest  of 

fifteen  per  cent,  payable  by  way  of  redeemable  annuity. 
It  was  with  fear  and  trembling  that  I  called  myself  mas- 
ter of  this  large  sum,  and  with  the  utmost  diffidence  that 
I  could  bring  myself  to  exercise  what  the  lawyers  would 
call  "acts  of  ownership"  on  it.    As,  however,  there  was 

no  time  to  lose,  I  took  a  respectable  house  in  C Street, 

West — furnished  it  neatly  and  respectedly — fortunately 
enough,  let  the  first  floor  to  a  rich  old  East  India  bach- 
elor— beheld  "Dr. "  glisten  conspicuously  on  my  door 

— and  then  dropped  my  little  line  into  the  great  water 
of  London,  resolved  to  abide  the  issue  with  patience. 

Blessed  with  buoyant  and  sanguine  spirits,  I  did  not 
lay  it  much  to  heart  that  my  only  occupation  during 
the  first  six  months  was — abroad,  to  practice  the  pardon- 
able solecism  of  hurrying  hand  passihus  acquis  through 
the  streets,  as  if  in  attendance  on  numerous  patients ;  and 
at  home,  to  ponder  pleasantly  over  my  books,  and  enjoy 
the  company  of  my  cheerful  and  affectionate  wife.  But 
when  I  had  numbered  twelve  months,  almost  without 
feeling  a  pulse  or  receiving  a  fee,  and  was  reminded  by 

old  L that  the  second  half-yearly  instalment  of  £225 

was  due,  I  began  to  look  forward  with  some  apprehen- 
sion to  the  overcast  future.     Of  the  £3000,  for  the  use 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  9 

of  which  I  was  paying  so  cruel  and  exorbitant  a  premium, 
little  more  than  half  remained — and  this,  notwithstanding 
we  had  practiced  the  most  rigid  economy  in  our  house- 
hold expenditure,  and  devoted  as  little  to  dress  as  was 
compatible  with  maintaining  a  respectable  exterior.  To 
my    sorrow,    I    found    myself    unavoidably    contracting 

debts,  which,  with  the  interest  due  to  old  L ,  I  found 

it  would  be  impossible  to  discharge.  If  matters  went  on 
as  they  seemed  to  threaten,  what  was  to  become  of  me 
in  a  year  or  two?     Putting  ever3^thing  else  out  of  the 

question,  where  was  I  to  find  funds  to  meet  old  L 's 

annual  demand  of  £450?  Relying  on  my  prospects  of 
professional  success,  I  had  bound  myself  to  return  the 
£3000  within  five  years  of  the  time  of  borrowing  it;  and 
now  I  thought  I  must  have  been  mad  to  do  so.  If  my 
profession  failed  me,  I  had  nothing  else  to  look  to.  I  had 
no  family  resources — for  my  father  had  died  since  I 
came  to  London,  very  much  embarrassed  in  his  circum- 
stances ;  and  my  mother,  who  was  aged  and  infirm,  had 
gone  to  reside  with  some  relatives,  who  were  few  and 
poor.  My  wife,  as  I  have  stated,  was  in  like  plight.  I 
do  not  think  she  had  a  relative  in  England  (for  her  father 
and  all  his  family  were  Germans),  except 
him,  whose  brightest  joy 


Was,  that  he  called  her — wife. 

Lord ,  the  nobleman  before  mentioned,  who,  I  am 

sure,  would  have  rejoiced  in  assisting  me,  either  by  pe- 
cuniary advances  or  professional  introductions,  had  been 
on  the  Continent  ever  since  I  commenced  practice.  Be- 
ing of  studious  habits,  and  a  very  bashful  and  reserved 
disposition  while  at  Cambridge,  I  could  number  but 
few  college  friends,  none  of  whom  I  knew  where  to  find 
in  London.  Neither  my  wife  nor  I  knew  more  than  five 
people,  besides  our  Indian  lodger;  for,  to  tell  the  truth, 
we  were,  like  many  a  fond  and  foolish  couple  before  us, 
all  the  world  to  one  another,  and  cared  little  for  scraping 
together  promiscuous  acquaintance.  If  we  had  even  been 
inclined  to  visiting,  our  straitened  circumstances 
would  have  forbid  our  incurring  the  expenses  attached 


10  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

to  it.  What,  then,  was  to  be  done  ?  My  wife  would  say, 
"Poh,  love,  we  shall  contrive  to  get  on  as  well  as  our 
neighbors" ;  but  the  simple  fact  was,  we  were  not  getting 
on  like  our  neighbors,  nor  did  I  see  any  prospect  of  our 
ever  doing  so.  I  began,  therefore,  to  pass  sleepless  nights, 
and  days  of  despondency,  casting  about  in  every  direction 
for  any  employment  consistent  with  my  profession,  and 
redoubling  my  fruitless  efforts  to  obtain  practice. 

It  is  almost  laughable  to  say  that  our  only  receipts 
were  a  few  paltry  guineas,  sent,  at  long  intervals, 
from  old  Mr.  Asperne,  the  proprietor  of  the  European 
Magazine,  as  remuneration  for  a  sort  of  monthly  medical 
summary  with  which  I  furnished  him,  and  a  trifle  or  two 
from  Mr.  Nicholls,  of  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  as  an 
acknowledgment  for  several  sweet  sonnets  sent  by  my 
wife. 

Knowing  the  success  which  often  attended  professional 
authorship,  as  tending  to  acquire  for  the  writer  a  reputa- 
tion for  skill  on  the  subject  of  which  he  treated,  and  in- 
troduce him  to  the  notice  of  the  higher  members  of  his 
own  profession,  I  determined  to  turn  my  attention  that 
way.  For  several  months  I  was  up  early  and  late  at  a 
work  on  Diseases  of  the  Lungs.  I  bestowed  incredible 
pains  on  it ;  and  my  toil  was  sweetened  hy  my  wife,  who 
would  sit  t>y  me,  in  the  long  summer  evenings,  like  an 
angel,  consoling  and  encouraging  me  with  predictions  of 
success.  She  lightened  my  labor  by  undertaking  the 
transcription  of  the  manuscript;  and  I  thought  that  two 
oi  three  hundred  sheets  of  fair  and  regular  handwriting 
were  heavily  purchased  by  the  impaired  eyesight  of  the 
beloved  amanuensis.  When  at  length  it  was  completed, 
having  been  read  and  revised  twenty  times,  so  that  there 
was  not  a  comma  wanting,  I  hurried,  full  of  fluttering 
hopes  and  fears,  to  a  well-known  medical  bookseller,  ex- 
pecting that  he  would  at  oncd  purchase  the  copyright. 
Fifty  pounds  I  had  fixed  in  my  own  mind  as  the  minimum 
of  what  I  would  accept ;  and  I  had  already  appropriated 
some  little  part  of  it  towards  buying  a  handsome  silk 
dress  for  my  wife.  Alas !  even  in  this  branch  of  my  profes- 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  11 

sion,  my  hopes  were  doomed  to  meet  with  disappointment. 
The  bookseller  received  me  with  great  civility ;  listened  to 
every  word  I  had  to  say ;  seemed  to  take  some  interest  in 
my  new  views  of  the  disease  treated  of,  which  I  explained 
to  him,  and  repeated — and  ventured  to  assure  him  that 
they  would  certainly  attract  public  attention.  My  heart 
leaped  for  joy  as  I  saw  his  business-like  eye  settled  upon 
me  with  an  expression  of  attentive  interest.  After  hav- 
ing almost  talked  myself  hoarse,  and  flushed  myself  all 
over  with  excitement,  he  removed  his  spectacles,  and 
politely  assured  me  of  his  approbation  of  the  work ;  but  ' 
that  he  had  determined  never  to  publish  any  more  medi- 
cal books  on  his  own  account.  I  have  the  most  vivid 
recollection  of  almost  turning  sick  with  chagrin.  With 
a  faltering  voice  I  asked  him  if  that  was  his  unalterable 
determination?  He  replied,  it  was;  for  he  had  "lost  too 
much  by  speculations  of  that  sort."  I  tied  up  the  manu- 
script, and  withdrew.  As  soon  as  I  left  his  shop,  I  let 
fall  a  scorching  tear  of  mingled  sorrow  and  mortifica- 
tion. I  could  almost  have  wept  aloud.  At  that  moment, 
whom  should  I  meet  but  my  dear  wife !  for  we  had  both 
been  talking  all  night  long,  and  all  breakfast-time,  about 
the  probable  result  of  my  interview  with  the  bookseller; 
and  her  anxious  afifection  would  not  permit  her  to  wait 
my  return.  She  had  been  pacing  to  and  fro  on  the 
other  side  of  the  street,  and  flew  to  me  on  my  leaving 
the  shop.  I  could  not  speak  to  her;  I  felt  almost  choked. 
At  last  her  continued  expressions  of  tenderness  and  sym- 
pathy soothed  me  into  a  more  equable  frame  of  mind,  and 
we  returned  to  dinner.  In  the  afternoon,  I  offered  it  to 
another  bookseller,  who,  John  Trot  like,  told  me  at  once 
he  "never  did  that  sort  of  thing."  I  offered  it  subse- 
quently to  every  medical  bookseller  I  could  find — with 
like  success.  One  fat  fellow  snuffled  out,  "If  he  might 
make  so  bold,"  he  would  advise  me  to  leave  off  book-mak- 
ing, and  stick  to  my  practice ;  another  assured  me  he  had 
got  two  similar  works  then  in  the  press;  and  the  last 
I  consulted  told  me  I  was  too  young,  he  thought,  to  have 
seen  enough  of  practice  for  writing  "a  book  of  that  na- 


12  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

ture,"  as  his  words  were.  "Publish  it  on  your  own  ac- 
count, love,"  said  my  wife.  That,  however,  was  out  of 
the  question,  whatever  might  be  the  merits  of  the  work — 
for  I  had  no  funds;  and  a  kind-hearted  bookseller,  to 
whom  I  mentioned  the  project,  assured  me  that  if  I  went 
to  press,  my  work  would  fall  from  it  still-born.  When  I 
returned  home  from  making  this  last  attempt,  I  flung 
myself  into  a  chair  by  the  fireside,  opposite  my  wife, 
without  speaking.  There  was  an  anxious  smile  of  sweet 
solicitude  in  her  face.  My  agitated  and  mortified  air 
convinced  her  that  I  was  finally  disappointed,  and  that 
six  months'  hard  labor  were  thrown  away.  In  a  fit  of 
uncontrollable  pique  and  passion,  I  flung  the  manu- 
script on  the  fire;  but  Emily  suddenly  snatched  it  from 
the  flames ;  gazed  on  me  with  a  look  such  as  none  but  a 
fond  and  devoted  wife  could  give — threw  her  arms  round 
my  neck,  and  kissed  me  back  to  calmness,  if  not  happi- 
ness. I  laid  the  manuscript  in  question  on  a  shelf  in  my 
study;  and  it  was  my  first  and  last  attempt  at  medical 
book-making. 

From  what  cause,  or  combination  of  causes,  I  know 
not,  but  I  seemed  marked  out  for  failure  in  my  profes- 
sion. Though  my  name  shone  on  my  door,  and  the  re- 
spectable neighborhood  could  not  but  have  noticed  the 
regularity  and  decorum  of  my  habits  and  manners,  yet 
none  ever  thought  of  calling  me  in !  Had  I  been  able  to 
exhibit  a  line  of  carriages  at  my  door,  or  open  my  house 
for  the  reception  of  company,  or  dash  about  town  in  an 
elegant  equipage,  or  be  seen  at  the  opera  and  theatres — 
had  I  been  able  to  do  this,  the  case  might  have  been 
different.  In  candor  I  must  acknowledge  that  another 
probable  cause  of  my  ill  success  was  a  somewhat  insig- 
nificant person,  and  unprepossessing  countenance.  I 
could  not  wear  such  an  eternal  smirk  of  con- 
ceited complacency,  or  keep  my  head  perpetually 
bowing,  mandarin-like,  as  many  of  my  professional 
brothers.  Still  there  were  thousands  to  whom 
these  deficiencies  proved  no  serious  obstacles.  The 
great    misfortune    in    my    case    was,    undoubtedly,    the 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  13 

want  of  introductions.  There  was  a  man  of  considerable 
rank  and  great  wealth,  who  was  a  sort  of  fiftieth  cousin 
of  mine,  residing  in  one  of  the  fashionable  squares  not  far 
from  me,  and  on  whom  I  had  called  to  claim  kindred,  and 
solicit  his  patronage ;  but  after  having  sent  up  my  name 
and  address,  I  was  suffered  to  wait  so  long  in  an  ante- 
room, that,  what  with  this  and  the  noise  of  servants 
bustling  past  with  insolent  familiarity,  I  quite  forgot  the 
relationship,  and  left  the  house,  wondering  what  had 
brought  me  there.  I  never  felt  inclined  to  go  near  it 
again;  so  there  was  an  end  f  all  prospects  of  introduc- 
tion from  that  quarter.  I  was  left,  therefore,  to  rely  ex- 
clusively on  my  own  efforts,  and  trust  to  chance  for  pa- 
tients. It  is  true  that,  in  the  time  I  have  mentioned,  I 
was  twice  called  in  at  an  instant's  warning;  but,  in  both 
cases,  the  objects  of  my  visits  had  expired  before  my  ar- 
rival, probably  before  a  messenger  could  be  dispatched 
for  me :  and  the  manner  in  which  my  fees  were  proffered, 
convinced  me  that  I  should  be  cursed  for  a  mercenary 
wretch  if  I  accepted  them.  I  was  therefore  induced,  in 
each  case,  to  decline  the  guinea,  though  it  would  have 
purchased  me  a  week's  happiness !  I  was  also,  on  sev- 
eral occasions,  called  in  to  visit  the  inferior  members  of 
families  in  the  neighborhood — servants,  housekeepers, 
porters,  &c. ;  and  of  all  the  trying,  mortifying  occurrences 
in  the  life  of  a  young  physician,  such  occasions  as  these 
are  the  most  irritating.  You  go  to  the  house — a  large 
one  probably — and  are  instructed  not  to  knock  at  the 
front  door,  but  to  go  down  by  the  area  to  your  patient ! 
I  think  it  was  about  this  time  that  I  was  summoned 

in  haste  to  young  Sir  Charles  F ,  who  resided  near 

Mayfair.  Delighted  at  the  prospect  of  securing  so  dis- 
tinguished a  patient,  I  hurried  to  his  house,  resolved  to  do 
my  utmost  to  give  satisfaction.  When  I  entered  the 
room,  I  found  the  sprig  of  fashion  enveloped  in  a  crimson 
silk  dressing-gown,  sitting  conceitedly  on  the  sofa,  and 
sipping  a  cup  of  coffee,  from  which  he  desisted  a  moment 
to  examine  me — positively — through  his  eye-glass,  and 
then  directed  me  to  inspect  the  swelled  foot  of  a  favorite 


14  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

pointer!  Darting  a  look  of  anger  at  the  insulting  cox- 
comb, I  instantly  withdrew  without  uttering  a  word. 
Five  years  afterwards  did  that  young  man  make  use  of 
the  most  strenuous  efforts  to  oust  me  from  the  confidence 
of  a  family  of  distinction,  to  which  he  was  distantly  re- 
lated. 

A  more  gratifying  incident  occurred  shortly  afterwards. 
I  had  the  misfortune  to  be  called,  on  a  sudden  emergency, 

into  consultation  with  the  late  celebrated  Dr.  .     It 

was  the  first  consultational  visit  that  I  had  ever  paid; 
and  I  was,  of  course,  very  anxious  to  acquit  myself  cred- 
itably. Shall  I  ever  forget  the  air  of  insolent  condescen- 
sion with  which  he  received  me  ;  or  the  remark  he  made  in 
the  presence  of  several  individuals,  professional  as  well 

as   unprofessional? — "I   assure   you.   Dr.   ,  there   is 

really  some  difference  between  apoplexy  and  epilepsy, 
at  least  there  was  when  I  was  a  young  man !"  He  accom- 
panied these  words  with  a  look  of  supercilious  com- 
miseration, directed  to  the  lady  whose  husband  was  our 
patient;  and  I  need  not  add,  that  my  future  services  were 
dispensed  with !  My  heart  ached  to  think  that  such  a 
fellow  as  this  should  have  it  in  his  power  to  take,  as  it 
were,  the  bread  out  of  the  mouth  of  an  unpretending  and 
almost  spirit-broken  professional  brother;  but  I  had  no 
remedy.  I  am  happy  to  have  it  in  my  power  to  say  how 
much  the  tone  of  consulting  physicians  is  now  (1820) 
lowered  towards  their  brethren  who  may  happen  to  be  of 
a  few  years'  less  standing,  and  consequently,  less  firmly 
fixed  in  the  confidence  of  their  patients.  It  was  by  a  few 
similar  incidents  to  those  above  related,  that  my 
spirit  began  to  be  soured  and  had  it  not  been 
for  the  unvarying  sweetness  and  cheerfulness  of  my 
incomparable  wife,  existence  would  not  have  been  tol- 
erable. My  professional  efforts  were  paralysed ;  failure 
attended  every  attempt ;  my  ruin  seemed  sealed.  My  re- 
sources were  rapidly  melting  away — my  expenditure, 
moderate  as  it  was,  was  counterbalanced  by  no  incom- 
ings.    A  prison  and  starvation  scowled  before  me. 

Despairing  of  finding  any  better  source  of  emolument, 


THE   DIARY    OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  15 

I  was  induced  to  send  an  advertisement  to  one  of  the 
daily  papers,  stating,  that  "a  graduate  of  Cambridge  Uni- 
versity, having  a  little  spare  time  at  his  disposal,  was 
willing  to  give  private  instructions  in  the  classics,  in  the 
evenings,  to  gentlemen  preparing  for  college,  or  to 
others !"  After  about  a  week's  interval,  I  received  one 
solitary  communication.  It  was  from  a  young  man  hold- 
ing some  subordinate  situation  under  government,  and 
residing  at  Pimlico.  This  person  offered  me  two  guineas 
a-month,  if  I  would  attend  him,  at  his  own  house,  for 
two  hours,  on  the  evenings  of  Monday,  Wednesday,  and 
Friday !  With  these  hard  terms  was  I  obliged  to  com- 
ply— yes,  a  gentleman,  and  a  member  of  an  English  uni- 
versity, was  driven  so  low  as  to  attend,  for  these  terms, 
an  ignorant  underling,  and  endeavor  to  instil  a  few  drops 
of  classic  lore  into  the  turbid  and  shallow  waters  of  his 
understanding.  I  had  hardly  given  him  a  month's  at- 
tendance before  he  assured  me,  with  a  flippant  air,  that, 
as  he  had  now  acquired  "a  practical  knowledge  of  the 
classics,"  he  would  dispense  with  my  further  services ! 
Dull  dunce!  he  could  not,  in  Latin,  be  brought  to  com- 
prehend the  difference  between  a  neuter  and  an  active 
verb;  while,  as  for  Greek,  it  was  an  absolute  chokepear; 
so  he  nibbled  on  to  rtfi?'/ —  and  then  gave  it  up.  Bitter 
but  unavailing  were  my  regrets,  as  I  returned  from  pay- 
ing my  last  visit  to  this  promising  scholar,  that  I  had 
not  entered  the  army,  and  gone  to  America,  or  even  be- 
taken myself  to  some  subordinate  commercial  situation. 
A  thousand  and  a  thousand  times  did  I  curse  the  ambi- 
tion which  brought  me  up  to  London,  and  the  egregious 
vanity  which  led  me  to  rely  so  implicitly  on  my  talents 
for  success.  Had  I  but  been  content  with  the  humbler 
sphere  of  a  general  practitioner,  I  might  have  laid  out 
my  dearly-bought  £3000  with  a  reasonable  prospect  of 
soon  repaying  it,  and  acquiring  a  respectable  livelihood. 
But  all  these  sober  thoughts,  as  is  usual,  came  only  time 
enough  to  enhance  the  mortification  of  failure. 

About   £300  was  now  the  miserable  remnant  of  the 
money  borrowed  from  the  Jew ;  and  half  a  year's  interest 


16  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

(£225),  together  with  my  rent,  was  due  in  about  a  fort- 
night's time.  I  was,  besides,  indebted  to  many  trades- 
men— who  were  becoming  every  day  more  querulous — 
for  articles  of  food,  clothing,  and  furniture.  My  poor 
Emily  was  in  daily  expectation  of  her  accouchement; 
and  my  own  health  was  sensibly  sinking,  under  the  com- 
bined pressure  of  anxiety  and  excessive  parsimony.  What 
was  to  be  done?  Despair  was  clinging  to  me,  and  shed- 
ding blight  and  mildew  over  my  faculties.  Every  avenue 
was  closed  against  me.  I  never  knew  what  it  was  to 
have  more  than  one  or  two  hours'  sleep  at  night,  and  that 
was  so  heavy,  so  troubled,  and  interrupted,  that  I  awoke 
each  morning  more  dead  than  alive.  I  lay  tossing  in  bed, 
revolving  all  conceivable  schemes  and  fancies  in  my  tor- 
tured brain,  till  at  length  from  mere  iteration,  they  began 
to  assume  a  feasible  aspect ;  alas !  however,  they  would 
none  of  them  bear  the  blush  of  daylight,  but  faded  away 
as  extravagant  and  absurd.  I  would  endeavor  to  set 
afloat  a  popular  Medical  Journal — to  give  lectures  on 
diseases  of  the  lungs — (a  department  with  which  I  was 
familiar) — I  would  advertise  for  a  small  medical  partner- 
ship, as  a  general  practitioner — I  would  do  a  thousand 
things  of  that  sort ;  but  where  was  my  capital  to  set  out 
with?  I  had  £300  in  the  world,  and  £450  yearly  to  pay 
to  an  extortionating  old  miser ;  that  was  the  simple  fact ; 
and  it  almost  drove  me  to  despair  to  advert  to  it  for  one 
instant.  Wretched,  however,  as  I  was,  and  almost  every 
instant  loathing  my  existence,  the  idea  of  suicide  was 
never  entertained  for  a  moment.  If  the  fiend  would  oc- 
casionally flit  across  the  dreary  chamber  of  my  heart,  a 
strong  and  unceasing  confidence  in  the  goodness  and 
power  of  my  Maker  always  repelled  the  fearful  visitant. 
Even  yet,  rapidly  as  I  seemed  approaching  the  precipice 
of  ruin,  I  could  not  avoid  cherishing  a  feeble  hope  that 
some  unexpected  avenue  would  open  to  better  fortune; 
and  the  thought  of  it  would,  for  a  time,  soothe  my 
troubled  breast,  and  nerve  it  to  bear  up  against  the  in- 
roads of  my  present  misfortunes. 

I  recollect  sitting  down  one  day  in  St.  James's  Park, 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  17 

on  one  of  the  benches,  weary  with  wandering  the  whole 
morning  I  knew  not  whither.  I  felt  faint  and  ill,  and 
more  than  usually  depressed  in  mind.  I  had  that  morn- 
ing paid  one  of  my  tradesmen's  bills,  amounting  to  £10; 
and  the  fellow  told  my  servant  that,  as  he  had  so  much 
trouble  in  getting  his  money,  he  did  not  want  the  hon- 
or of  my  custom  any  longer.  The  thought  that  my  credit 
was  failing  in  the  neighborhood  was  insupportable. 
Ruin  and  disgrace  would  then  be  accelerated;  and  being 
unable  to  meet  my  creditors,  I  should  be  proclaimed  lit- 
tle less  than  a  swindler,  and  shaken  like  a  viper  from  the 
lap  of  society.  P'earful  as  were  such  thoughts,  I  had 
not  enough  of  energy  of  feeling  left  to  suffer  much  agi- 
tation from  them.  I  folded  my  arms  on  my  breast  in 
sullen  apathy,  and  wished  only  that,  whatever  might  be 
my  fate,  certainty  might  be  substituted  for  suspense. 

While  indulging  in  thoughts  like  these,  a  glittering 
troop  of  soldiers  passed  by  me,  preceded  by  their  band, 
playing  a  merry  air.  How  the  sounds  jarred  on  the 
broken  strings  of  my  heart!  And  many  a  bright  face, 
dressed  in  smiles  of  gaiety  and  happiness,  thronged  past, 
attracted  by  the  music,  little  thinking  of  the  wretched- 
ness of  him  who  was  sitting  by !  I  could  not  prevent  the 
tears  of  anguish  from  gushing  forth.  I  thought  of  Emily 
— of  her  delicate  and  interesting,  but,  to  me,  melancholy 
situation,  I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  returning 
home,  to  encounter  her  affectionate  looks — her  meek  and 
gentle  resignation  to  her  bitter  fortunes.  Why  had  I 
married  her,  without  first  having  considered  whether  I 
could  support  her?  Passionately  fond  of  me,  as  I  well 
knew  she  was,  could  she  avoid  frequently  recurring  to 
the  days  of  our  courtship,  when  I  reiteratedly  assured 
her  of  my  certainty  of  professional  success  as  soon  as  I 
could  get  settled  in  London?  Where  now  were  all  the 
fair  and  flourishing  scenes  to  which  my  childish  enthus- 
iasm had  taught  me  to  look  forward?  Would  not  the 
bitter  contrast  she  was  now  experiencing,  and  seemed 
doomed  long  yet  to  experience,  alienate  from  me  a  por- 
tion of  her  affections,  and  induce  feelings  of  anger  and 


18  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

contempt?  Could  I  blame  her  for  all  this?  If  the  goodly 
superstructure  of  my  fortunes  fell,  was  it  not  that  I  had 
loosened  and  destroyed  the  foundation? — Reflections  like 
these  were  harrassing  and  scourging  me,  when  an  elderly 
gentleman,  evidently  an  invalid,  tottered  slowly  to  the 
bench  where  I  was  sitting,  and  sat  down  beside  me.  He 
seemed  a  man  of  wealth  and  consideration ;  for  his  ser- 
vant, on  whose  arm  he  had  been  leaning,  and  who  now 
stood  behind  the  bench  on  which  he  was  sitting,  wore  a 
very  elegant  livery.  He  was  almost  shaken  to  pieces  by 
an  asthmatic  cough,  and  was,  besides,  suffering  from  an- 
other severe  disorder,  which  need  not  be  more  partic- 
ularly named.  He  looked  at  me  once  or  tv/ice,  in  a  man- 
ner which  seemed  to  say,  that  he  would  not  take  it  rudely 
if  I  addressed  him.  I  did  so.  "I  am  afraid,  sir,"  I  said, 
"you  are  in  great  pain  from  that  cough?"  "Yes,"  he 
gasped  faintly;  "and  I  don't  know  how  to  get  rid  of  it. 
I  am  an  old  man,  you  see,  sir ;  and  methinks  my  sum- 
mons to  the  grave  might  have  been  less  loud  and  pain- 
ful." After  a  little  pause,  I  ventured  to  ask  him  how 
long  he  had  been  subject  to  the  cough  which  now  har- 
rassed  him?  He  said,  more  or  less,  for  the  last  ten  years ; 
but  that,  latterly,  it  had  increased  so  much  upon  him  that 
he  could  not  derive  any  benefit  from  medical  advice.  "I 
should  think,  sir,  the  more  violent  symptoms  of  your  dis- 
order might  be  mitigated,"  said  I,  and  proceeded  to  ques- 
tion him  minutely,  but  hesitatingly,  as  to  the  origin  and 
progress  of  the  complaints  which  now  afflicted  him.  He 
ansv\^ered  all  my  questions  with  civility ;  and  as  I  went 
on,  seemed  to  be  roused  into  something  like  curiosity 
and  interest.  I  need  not  say  more,  than  that  I  discovered 
he  had  not  been  in  the  hands  of  a  skillful  practitioner ; 
and  that  I  assured  him  very  few  and  simple  means  would 
give  him  great  relief  from  at  least  the  more  violent  symp- 
toms. He,  of  course,  perceived  I  was  in  the  medical  pro- 
fession ;  and,  after  some  apparent  hesitation,  evidently  as 
to  whether  or  not  I  should  feel  hurt,  tendered  me  a 
guinea.  I  refused  it  promptly  and  decidedly,  and  as- 
sured him  that  he  was  quite  welcome  to  the  very  trifling 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  19 

advice  I  had  rendered  him.  At  that  moment,  a  young 
man  of  fashionable  appearance  walked  up,  and  told  him 
their  carriage  was  waiting  at  the  corner  of  the  stable- 
yard.  This  last  gentleman,  who  seemed  to  be  either  the 
son  or  nephew  of  the  old  gentleman,  eyed  me,  I  thought, 
with  a  certain  superciliousness,  which  was  not  lessened 
when  the  invalid  told  him  I  had  given  him  some  excellent 
advice,  for  which  he  could  not  prevail  on  me  to  receive 
a  fee.  "We  are  vastly  obliged  to  you,  sir ;  but  are  go- 
ing home  to  our  family  physician,"  said  the  young  man, 
haughtily ;  and,  placing  the  invalid's  arm  in  his,  led  him 
slowly  away.  He  was  addressed  several  times  by  the 
servant  as  "Sir"  something,  Wilton  or  William,  I  think ; 
but  I  could  not  distinctly  catch  it,  so  that  it  was  evi- 
dently a  person  of  some  rank  I  had  been  addressing. 
How  many  there  are,  thought  I,  that,  with  a  more  plaus- 
ible and  insinuating  address  than  mine  is,  would  have 
contrived  to  get  into  the  confidence  of  this  gentleman, 
and  become  his  medical  attendant!  How  foolish  was  I 
not  to  give  him  my  card  when  he  proffered  me  a  fee,  and 
thus,  in  all  probability,  be  sent  for  the  next  morning  to 
pay  a  regular  professional  visit !  and  to  what  lucrative  in- 
troductions might  not  that  have  led!  A  thousand  times 
I  cursed  my  diffidence — my  sensitiveness  as  to  profes- 
sional etiquette — and  my  inability  to  seize  the  advan- 
tages occasionally  offered  by  a  fortunate  conjuncture  of 
circumstances.  I  was  fitter,  I  thought,  for  La  Trappe 
than  the  bustling  world  of  business.  I  deserved  my  ill 
fortune ;  and  professional  failure  was  the  natural 
consequence  of  the  mauvaise  honfe  which  has  injured  so 
many.  As  the  day,  however,  was  far  advancing,  I  left 
the  seat,  and  turned  my  steps  towards  my  cheerless 
home. 

As  was  generally  the  case,  I  found  Emily  busily  en- 
gaged in  painting  little  fire-screens,  and  other  ornamen- 
tal toys,  which,  when  completed,  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
carrying  to  a  kind  of  private  bazaar  in  Oxford  Street, 
where  I  was  not  known,  and  where,  with  an  aching  heart, 
I  disposed  of  the  delicate  and  beautiful  productions  of 


20  THF  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

my  poor  wife,  for  a  trifle  hardly  worth  taking  home. 
Could  any  man,  pretending  to  the  slightest  feeling,  con- 
template his  young  wife  far  advanced  in  pregnancy,  in 
a  critical  state  of  health,  and  requiring  air,  exercise,  and 
cheerful  company,  toiling  in  the  manner  I  have  related, 
from  morning  to  night,  and  for  a  miserably  inadequate 
remuneration?  She  submitted,  however,  to  our  mis- 
fortunes, with  infinitely  more  firmness  and  equanimity 
than  I  could  pretend  to;  and  her  uniform  cheerfulness  of 
demeanor,  together  with  the  passionate  fervor  of  her 
fondness  for  me,  contributed  to  fling  a  few  rays  of  trem- 
bling and  evanescent  lustre  over  the  gloomy  prospects 
of  the  future.  Still,  however,  the  dreadful  question  in- 
cessantly presented  itself — What,  in  Heaven's  name,  is 
to  become  of  us?  I  cannot  say  that  we  were  at  this  time 
in  absolute,  literal  want ;  though  our  parsimonious  fare 
hardly  deserved  the  name  of  food,  especially  such  as  my 
wife's  delicate  situation  required.  It  was  the  hopeless- 
ness of  all  prospective  resources  that  kept  us  in  per- 
petual thraldom.  With  infinite  effort  we  might  contrive 
to  hold  on  to  a  given  period — say,  till  the  next  half- 
yearly  demand  of  old  L ;  and  then  we  must  sink  al- 
together, unless  a  miracle  intervened  to  save  us.  Had  I 
been  alone  in  the  world,  I  might  have  braved  the  worst, 
have  turned  my  hand  to  a  thousand  things,  have  ac- 
commodated myself  to  almost  any  circumstances,  and 
borne  the  extremest  privations  with  fortitude.  But  my 
darling — my  meek,  smiling,  gentle  Emily! — my  heart 
bled  for  her. 

Not  to  leave  any  stone  unturned,  seeing  an  advertise- 
ment addressed,  "To  medical  men,"  I  applied  for  the 
situation  of  assistant  to  a  general  practitioner,  though  I 
had  but  little  skill  in  the  practical  part  of  compounding 
medicines.  I  applied  personally  to  the  advertiser,  a  fat, 
red-faced,  vulgar  fellow,  who  had  contrived  to  gain  a  very 
large  practice,  by  what  means  God  only  knows.  His 
terms  were — and  these  named  in  the  most  offensive  con- 
temptuousness  of  manner — £80  a-year,  board  and  lodge 
out,  and  give  all  my  time  in  the  day  to  my  employer!  Ab- 


1 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  21 

surd  as  was  the  idea  of  acceding  to  terms  like  these,  I 
thought  I  might  still  consider  them.  I  pressed  hard  for 
£100  a-year,  and  told  him  I  was  married 

"Married !"  said  he,  with  a  loud  laugh  ;  "No,  no,  sir,  you 
are  not  the  man  for  my  money;  so  I  wish  you  good 
morning." 

Thus  was  I  baffled  in  every  attempt  to  obtain  a  per- 
manent source  of  support  from  my  profession.  It 
brought  me  about  £40  per  annum.  I  gained,  by  oc- 
casional contributions  to  magazines,  an  average  sum 
annually  of  about  £25.  My  wife  earned  about  that  sum 
by  her  pencil.     And  these  were  all  the  funds  I  had  to 

meet  the  enormous  interest  due  half-yearly  to  old  L , 

to  discharge  my  rent,  and  the  various  other  expenses  of 
housekeeping,  &c.  Might  I  not  well  despair?  I  did ;  and 
God's  goodness  only  preserved  me  from  the  frightful  ca- 
lamity which  has  suddenly  terminated  the  earthly  mis- 
eries of  thousands  in  similar  circumstances. 

And  is  it  possible,  I  often  thought,  with  all  the  tor- 
menting credulousness  of  a  man  half  stupified  with  his 
misfortunes — is  it  possible,  that,  in  the  very  heart  of  this 
metropolis  of  splendor,  wealth,  and  extravagance,  a  gen- 
tleman and  a  scholar,  who  has  labored  long  in  honor- 
able toil  of  acquiring  professional  knowledge,  cannot  con- 
trive to  scrape  together  even  a  competent  subsistence,  and 
that,  too,  while  ignorance  and  infamy  are  wallowing  in 
wealth — while  charlatanry  and  quackery  of  all  kinds  are 
bloated  with  success !  Full  of  such  thoughts  as  these, 
how  often  have  I  slunk  stealthily  along  the  streets  of 
London,  on  cold  and  dreary  winter  evenings,  almost 
fainting  with  long  abstinence,  yet  reluctant  to  return 
home  and  incur  the  expense  of  an  ordinary  family  din- 
ner, while  my  wife's  situation  required  the  most  rigor- 
ous economy  to  enable  us  to  meet,  even  in  a  poor  and 
small  way,  the  exigencies  of  her  approaching  accouche- 
ment! How  often — ay,  hundreds  of  times — have  I  en- 
vied the  coarse  and  filthy  fare  of  the  minor  eating-houses, 
and  been  content  to  interrupt  a  twelve  hours'  fast  with 
a  bun  or  biscuit  and  a  draught  of  water  or  turbid  table- 


22  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

beer,  under  the  wretched  pretence  of  being  in  too  great 
a  hurry  to  go  home  to  dinner !  I  have  often  gazed  with 
envy — once,  I  recollect,  in  particular — on  dogs  eating 
their  huge  daily  slice  of  boiled  horse's  flesh,  and  envied 
their  contented  and  satiated  looks!  With  what  anguish 
of  heart  have  I  seen  carriages  setting  down  company  at 
the  door  of  a  house,  illuminated  by  the  glare  of  a  hun- 
dred tapers,  where  were  ladies  dressed  in  the  extreme  of 
fashion,  whose  cast-off  clothes  would  have  enabled  me  to 
acquire  a  tolerably  respectable  livelihood.  O  ye  sons 
and  daughters  of  luxury  and  extravagance!  how  many 
thousands  of  needy  and  deserving  families  would  re- 
joice to  eat  the  crumbs  which  fall  from  your  tables, 
and  they  may  not. 

I  have  stood  many  a  time  at  my  parlor  window,  and 
envied  the  kitchen  fare  of  the  servants  of  my  wealthy  op- 
posite neighbor;  while  I  protest  I  have  been  ashamed  to 
look  our  own  servant  in  the  face,  as  she,  day  after  day, 
served  up  for  two  what  was  little  more  than  sufficient  for 
one:  and  yet,  bitter  mockery!  I  was  to  support  abroad 
the  farce  of  a  cheerful  and  respectable  professional  ex- 
terior. 

Two  days  after  the  occurrence  at  St.  James's  Park, 
above  related,  I  was,  as  usual,  reading  the  columns  of 
advertisements  in  one  of  the  daily  papers,  when  my  eyes 
lit  on  the  following: — 

"The  professional  gentleman,  who,  a  day  or  two  ago, 
had  some  conversation  on  the  subject  of  asthma  with  an 
invalid,  on  one  of  the  benches  of  St.  James's  Park,  is  par- 
ticularly requested  to  forward  his  name  and  address  to 
W.  J.,  care  of  Messrs.  ." 

I  almost  let  the  paper  fall  from  my  hands  with  de- 
lighted surprise.  That  I  was  the  "professional  gentle- 
man" alluded  to,  was  clear;  and  on  the  slender  founda- 
tion of  this  advertisement,  I  had,  in  a  few  moments, 
built  a  large  and  splendid  superstructure  of  good  fortune. 
I  had  hardly  calmness  enough  to  call  my  wife,  who  was 
engaged  with  some  small  household  matters,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  communicating  the  good  news  to  her.     I  need 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  23 

hardly  say  with  what  eagerness  I  compHed  with  the 
requisitions  of  the  advertisement.  Half  an  hour  be- 
held  my   name  and   address   in   an   envelope,   with   the 

superscription,  "W.  J.,"  lying  at  Messrs, 's,  who  were 

stationers.  After  passing  a  most  anxious  and  sleepless 
night,  agitated  by  all  kinds  of  hopes  and  fears,  my  wife 
and  I  were  sitting  at  breakfast  when  a  liveried  servant 
knocked    at    the    door ;    and,    after    inquiring    whether 

"Dr. "  was  at  home,  left  a  letter.    It  was  an  envelope 

containing  the  card  of  address  of  Sir  William  ,  No. 

26, Street,  accompajiied  with  the  following  note : — 

"Sir  William 's  compliments  to  Dr. ,  and  will 

feel  obliged  by  his  looking  in  in  the  course  of  the  morn- 
ing." 

"Now  be  calm,  my  dear ,"  said  Emily,  as  she  saw 

my  fluttering  excitement  of  manner.  But,  alas !  that  was 
impossible.  I  was  impatient  for  the  hour  of  twelve ;  and 
precisely  as  the  clock  struck,  I  sallied  forth  to  visit  my 
titled  patient.  All  the  way  I  went,  I  was  taxing  my  in- 
genuity for  palliatives;  remedies  for  asthma;  I  would 
new-regulate  his  diet  and  plan  of  life — in  short,  I  would 
do  wonders ! 

Sir  William,  who  was  sitting  gasping  by  the  fireside, 
received  me  with  great  courtesy ;  and  after  motioning 
his  niece,  a  charming  young  woman,  to  retire,  told  me 
he  had  been  so  much  interested  by  my  remarks  the  other 
day  in  the  Park,  that  he  felt  inclined  to  follow  my  advice, 
and  put  himself  under  my  care  altogether.  He  then  en- 
tered on  a  history  of  his  complaints.  I  found  his  con- 
stitution was  entirely  broken  up,  and  that  in  a  very  little 
while  it  must  fall  to  pieces.  I  told  him,  however,  that  if 
he  would  adhere  strictly  to  the  regimen  I  proposed,  I 
could  promise  him  great  if  not  permanent  relief.  He  lis- 
tened to  what  I  said  with  the  utmost  interest.  "Do  you 
think  you  could  prolong  my  life,  Doctor,  for  two  years?" 
said  he,  with  emotion.  I  told  him,  I  certainly  could  not 
pretend  to  promise  him  so  much.  "My  only  reason  for 
asking  the  question,"  he  replied,  "is  my  beloved  niece, 
that  young  lady  who  has  just  left  us.    If  I  cannot  live  for 


24  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

two  years  or  eighteen  months  longer,  it  will  be  a  bitter 
thing  for  her !" — He  sighed  deeply,  and  added  abruptly — 
"But  of  that  more  hereafter.  I  hope  to  see  you  to-mor-' 
row,  Doctor."  He  insisted  on  my  accepting  five  guineas, 
in  return  for  the  two  visits  he  said  he  had  received;  and 
I  took  my  departure.  I  felt  altogether  a  new  man,  as  I 
walked  home.  My  spirits  were  more  light  and  buoyant 
than  they  had  been  for  many  a  long  month ;  for  I  could 
not  help  thinking,  that  I  had  now  a  fair  chance  of  in- 
troduction into  respectable  practice.  My  wife  shared 
my  joy;  and  we  were  as  happy  for  the  rest  of  that  day, 
as  if  we  had  already  surmounted  the  heavy  difficulties 
which  oppressed  us. 

I  attended  Sir  William  every  day  that  week,  and  re- 
ceived a  fee  of  two  guineas  for  each  visit.  On  Sunday  I 
■met  the  family  physician.  Sir ,  who  had  just  been  re- 
leased from  attendance  on  one  of  the  Royal  Family.  He 
was  a  polite  but  haughty  man;  and  seemed  inclined  to 
be  much  displeased  with  Sir  William  for  calling  me  in. 
When  I  entered.  Sir  William  introduced  me  to  him  as 

"Dr.  ,"  "Dr.  ,  of  Square?"   inquired   the 

other  physician,  carelessly,  I  told  him  where  I  lived.  He 
affected  to  be  reflecting  where  the  street  was;  it  was 
the  one  next  to  that  in  which  he  himself  resided.  There 
is  nothing  in  the  world  so  easy,  as  for  the  eminent  mem- 
bers of  our  profession  to  take  the  bread  out  of  the  mouths 
of  their  younger  brethren  with  the  best  grace   in  the 

world.     So  Sir contrived  in  the  present  case.     He 

assured  Sir  William,  that  nothing  was  calculated  to  do 
him  so  much  good  as  change  of  air.  Of  course,  I  could 
not  but  assent.  The  sooner,  he  said.  Sir  William  left  the 
town  the  better.  Sir  William  asked  me  if  I  concurred  in 
that  opinion? — Certainly.  He  set  oflf  for  Worthing 
two  days  after;  and  I  lost  the  best  and  almost  the  only 
patient  I  had  then  ever  had ;  for  Sir  William  died  after 
three  weeks'  residence  at  Worthing. 

This  circumstance  occasioned  me  great  depression  of 
spirits.  Nothing  that  I  touched  seemed  to  prosper;  and 
the  transient  glimpses  I  occasionally  obtained  of  good 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  25 

fortune,  seemed  given  only  to  tantalize  me,  and  enhance 
the  bitterness  of  the  contrast.  My  store  of  money  was 
reduced  at  last  from  £3000  to  £25  in  cash;  my  debts 
amounted    to   upwards    of    £100;    and    in    six    months 

another  £225    would     be     due    to    old     L !       My 

wife,  too,  had  been  confined,  and  there  was  another 
source  of  expense;  for  both  she  and  my  little  daugh- 
ter were  in  a  very  feeble  state  of  health.  Still 
sweetly  wishful  to  accommodate  herself  to  one  lowered 
in  circumstances,  she  almost  broke  my  heart  one  day 
with  the  proposal  of  dismissing  our  servant,  the  whole 
of  whose  labor  my  poor  sweet  Emily  herself  under- 
took to  perform !  No,  no — this  was  too  much  ;  the  tears 
of  agony  gushed  from  my  eyes,  as  I  folded  her  delicate 
frame  in  my  arms,  and  assured  her  that  Providence 
would  never  permit  so  much  virtue  and  gentleness  to  be 
degraded  into  such  humiliating  servitude.  I  said  this, 
but  my  heart  heavily  misgave  me,  that  a  more  wretched 
prospect  was  before  her! 

I  have  often  sat  by  my  small,  solitary  parlor  fire,  and 
pondered  over  our  misery  and  misfortunes,  till  almost 
frenzied  with  the  violence  of  my  emotions.  Where  was 
I  to  look  for  relief?  What  earthly  remedy  was  there? 
O  my  God,  thou  alone  knowest  what  this  poor  heart  of 
mine  suffered  in  such  times  as  these,  not  on  my  own  ac- 
count, but  for  those  beloved  beings  whose  ruin  was  im- 
plicated in  mine!   What,  however,  was  to  be  done  at  the 

present   crisis,   seeing  at   Christmas,   old    L would 

come  upon  me  for  his  interest,  and  my  other  creditors 
would  insist  on  payment?  A  dreary  mist  came  over  my 
mind's  eye  whenever  I  attempted  to  look  steadily  for- 
ward into  futurity.  I  had  written  several  times  to  my 
kind  and  condescending  friend.  Lord ,  who  still  con- 
tinued abroad ;  but  as  I  knew  not  to  what  part  of  the 
Continent  to  direct,  and  the  servants  of  his  family  pre- 
tended they  knew  not,  I  left  my  letters  at  his  town  house, 
to  be  forwarded  with  his  quarterly  packages.  I  suppose 
my  letters  must  have  been  opened,  and  burned,  as  little 


26  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

other  than  pestering,  begging  letters;  for  I  never  heard 
from  him. 

I  have  often  heard  from  my  father,  that  we  had  a  sort 
of  fiftieth  cousin  in  London,  a  baronet  of  great  v^ealth, 
who  had  married  a  distant  relation  of  our  family,  on 
account  solely  of  her  beauty;  but  that  he  was  one  of 
the  most  haughty  and  arrogant  men  breathing — had,  in 
the  most  insolent  manner  disavowed  the  relationship, 
and  treated  my  father,  on  one  occasion,  very  contume- 
liously;  a  fate  I  had  myself  shared,  as  the  reader  may 
recollect,  not  long  ago.  Since  then,  however,  the  pres- 
sure of  accumulated  misfortunes  had  a  thousand  times 
forced  upon  me  the  idea  of  once  more  applying  to  this 
man,  and  stating  my  circumstances.  As  one  is  easily 
induced  to  believe  what  one  wishes  to  be  true,  I  could 
not  help  thinking  that  surely  he  must  in  some  degree 
relent,  if  informed  of  our  utter  misery;  but  my  heart 
always  failed  me  when  I  took  my  pen  in  hand  to  write  to 
him.  I  was  at  a  loss  for  terms  in  which  to  state  our  dis- 
tress most  feelingly,  and  in  a  manner  best  calculated  to 
arrest  his  attention.  I  had,  however,  after  infinite  reluct- 
ance, addressed  a  letter  of  this  sort  to  his  lady;  who,  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  shared  all  Sir  's  hauteur ;  and  re- 
ceived an  answer  from  a  fashionable  watering-place, 
where  her  ladyship  was  spending  the  summer  months. 
This  is  it: — 

.  "Lady 's  compliments  to  Dr. ,  and  having  re- 
ceived his  letter,  and  given  it  her  best  consideration,  is 

happy  in  being  able  to  request  Dr.  's  acceptance  of 

the  enclosed ;  which,  however,  owing  to  Sir  's  tem- 
porary embarrassment  in  pecuniary  matters,  she  has 
had  some  difficulty  in  sending.     She  is,  therefore,  under 

the  painful  necessity  of  requesting  Dr.  to  abstain 

fiom  future  applications  of  this  sort.  As  to  Dr. 's  of- 
fer of  his  medical  services  to  Lady  's  family,  when 

in  town,  Lady  must  beg  to  decline  them,  as  the 

present  physician  has  attended  the  family  for  years,  and 

neither    Lady   nor    Sir   see    any    reason    for 

changing.  W ,  to  Dr.  ." 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  27 

The  enclosure  was  £10,  which  I  was  on  the  point  of 
returning  in  a  blank  envelope,  indignant  at  the  cold  and 
unfeeling  letter  which  accompanied  it ;  but  the  pale 
sunk  cheeks  of  my  wife  appealed  against  my  pride,  and 
I  retained  it.    To  return.     Recollecting  the  reception  of 

this  application,  as  well  as  my  former  visit  to  Sir  , 

my  heart  froze  at  the  very  idea  of  repeating  it.  To  what, 
however,  will  not  misfortune  compel  a  man !  I  deter- 
mined, at  length,  to  call  upon  Sir  ;  to  insist  upon 

being  shown  to  him.  I  set  out  for  this  purpose,  without 
telling  my  errand  to  my  wife,  who,  as  I  have 
before  stated,  was  confined  to  her  bed,  and  in 
a  very  feeble  state  of  health.  It  was  a  fine 
sunny  morning,  or  rather  noon ;  all  that  I  passed 
seemed  happy  and  contented ;  their  spirits  exhil- 
arated by  the  genial  weather,  and  sustained  by  the  suc- 
cessful prosecution  of  business.  My  heart,  however,  was 
fluttering  feebly  beneath  the  pressure  of  anticipated  dis- 
appointment. I  was  going  in  the  spirit  of  a  forlorn  hope ; 
with  a  dogged  determination  to  make  the  attempt ;  to 
know  that  even  this  door  was  shut  against  me.   My  knees 

trembled  beneath  me  as  I  entered  Place,  and  saw 

elegant  equipages  standing  at  the  doors  of  most  of  the 
gloomy,  but  magnificent  houses,  which  seemed  to  frown 
off  such  insignificant  and  wretched  individuals  as  myself. 
How  could  I  ever  muster  resolution  enough,  I  thought, 
to  ascend  the  steps  and  knock  and  ring  in  a  sufficiently 
authoritative  manner  to  be  attended  to?  It  is  laughable 
to  relate,  but  I  could  not  refrain  from  stepping  back  into 
a  by-street,  and  getting  a  small  glass  of  some  cordial 
spirit  to  give  me  a  little  firmness.    At  length  I  ventured 

again  into Place  and  found  Sir 's  house  on  the 

opposite  side.  There  was  no  one  to  be  seen  but  some 
footmen  in  undress,  lolling  indolently  at  the  dining-room 
window,  and  making  their  remarks  on  passers-by.  I 
dreaded  these  fellows  as  much  as  their  master!  It  was 
no  use,  however,  indulging  in  thoughts  of  that  kind ;  so  I 
crossed  over,  and  lifting  the  huge  knocker,  made  a  tol- 
erably decided  application  of  it,  and  pulled  the  bell  with 


28  THE  DIARY   OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

what  I  fancied  was  a  sudden  and  imperative  jerk.  The 
summons  was  instantly  answered  by  the  corpulent  por- 
ter, who,  seeing  nothing  but  a  plain  pedestrian,  kept  hold 
of  the  door,  and  leaning  against  the  door-post,  asked  me 
familiarly  what  were  my  commands. 

"Is  Sir at  home?" 

"Ye — es,"  said  the  fellow,  in  a  supercilious  tone. 

"Can  he  be  spoken  to?" 

"I  think  he  can't,  for  he  wasn't  home  till  six  o'clock 
this  morning  from  the  Duchess  of 's." 

"Can  I  wait  for  him?  and  will  you  show  him  this 
card,"  said  I,  tendering  it  to  him — "and  say  I  have  par- 
ticular business?" 

"Couldn't  look  in  again  at  four,  could  you?"  he  in- 
quired, in  the  same  tone  of  cool  assurance. 

"No,  sir,"  I  replied,  kindling  with  indignation ;  "my 
business  is  urgent — I  shall  wait  now." 

With  a  yawn  he  opened  the  door  for  me,  and  called  to 
a  servant  to  show  me  into  the  antechamber,  saying,  I 
must  make  up  my  mind  to  wait  an  hour  or  two,  as  Sir 

was  then  only  just  getting  up,  and  would  be  an 

hour  at  least  at  his  breakfast.  He  then  left  me,  saying 
he  would  send  my  card  up  to  his  master.  My  spirits 
were  somewhat  ruffled  and  agitated  with  having  forced 
my  way  thus  far  through  the  frozen  island  of  English 
aristocracy,  and  I  sat  down  determined  to  wait  patiently 

till  I  was  summoned  lip  to  Sir .    I  could  hear  several 

equipages  dashing  up  to  the  door,  and  the  visitors  they 
brought  were  always  shown  up  immediately.  I  rang  the 
bell  and  asked  a  servant  why  I  was  suffered  to  wait  so 
long,  as  Sir was  clearly  visible  now? 

"'Pon  honor  I  don't  know  indeed,"  said  the  fellow, 
coolly  shutting  the  door. 

Boiling  with  indignation,  I  resumed  my  seat,  then 
walked  to  and  fro,  and  presently  sat  down  again.  Soon 
afterwards,  I  heard  the  French  valet  ordering  the  car- 
riage to  be  in  readiness  in  half  an  hour.  I  rang  again ; 
the  same  servant  answered.  He  walked  into  the  room, 
and  standing  near  me,  asked,  in  a  familiar  tone  what 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  29 

I  wanted.    "Show  me  up  to  Sir ,  for  I  shall  wait  no 

longer,"  said  I  sternly. 

"Can't  sir,  indeed,"  he  replied,  with  a  smirk  on  his  face, 

"Has  my  card  been  shown  to  Sir  ?"  I  inquired, 

struggling  to  preserve  my  temper, 

"I'll  ask  the  porter  if  he  gave  it  to  Sir 's  valet,"  he 

replied,  and  shut  the  door. 

About  ten  minutes  afterwards  a  carriage  drove  up ; 
there  was  a  bustle  on  the  stairs,  and  in  the  hall.    I  heard 

a  voice  saying,  "If  Lord calls,  tell  him  I  am  gom 

to  his  house"  ;  in  a  few  moments,  the  steps  of  the  carriage 
were  let  down — the  carriage  drove  off — and  all  was  quiet. 
Once  more,  I  rang, 

"Is  Sir now  at  liberty?" 

"Oh !  he's  gone  out,  sir,"  said  the  same  servant,  who 
had  twice  before  answered  my  summons.  The  valet  then 
entered.  I  asked  him,  with  lips  quivering  with  indigna- 
tion, why  I  had  not  seen  Sir ?  I  was  given  to  under- 
stand that  my  card  had  been  shown  the  Baronet — that 
he  saidj  "I've  no  time  to  attend  to  this  person,"  or  words 
to  that  efifect — and  had  left  his  house  without  deigning 
to  notice  me!  Without  uttering  more  than  "Show  me 
the  door,  sir,"  to  the  servant,  I  took  my  departure,  de-i 
termining  to  perish  rather  than  make  a  second  applica- 
tion.    To  anticipate  my  narrative  a  little,  I  may  state 

that,  ten  years  afterwards.  Sir  ,  who  had  become 

dreadfully  addicted  to  gambling,  lost  all  his  property,  and 
died  suddenly  of  an  apoplectic  seizure,  brought  on  by  a 
paroxysm  of  fury!  Thus  did  Providence  reward  this 
selfish  and  unfeeling  man. 

I  walked  about  the  town  for  several  hours,  endeavor- 
ing to  wear  off  that  air  of  chagrin  and  sorrow  which  had 
been  occasioned  by  my  reception  at  Sir  's.  Some- 
thing must  be  done,  and  that  immediately;  for  absolute 
starvation  was  now  before  us.  I  could  think  of  but  two 
other  quarters  where  I  could  apply  for  a  little  temporary'' 
relief.  I  resolved  to  write  a  note  to  a  very  celebrated  and 
successful  brother  practitioner,  stating  my  necessities — 
acquainting  him  candidly  with  my  whole  circumstances, 


30  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

and  soliciting  the  favor  of  a  temporary  accommodation 
of  a  few  pounds — twenty  was  the  sum  I  ventured  to 
name.  I  wrote  the  letter  at  a  coffeehouse,  and  returned 
home.  I  spent  all  that  evening  in  attempting  to  picture 
to  myself  the  reception  it  would  meet  with.  I  tried  to 
put  myself  in  the  place  of  him  I  had  written  to,  and  fancy 
the  feelings  with  which  I  should  receive  a  similar  ap- 
plication. I  need  not,  however,  tantalize  the  reader. 
After  nearly  a  fortnight's  suspense,  I  received  the  follow- 
ing reply  to  my  letter.  I  shall  give  it  verbatim,  after 
premising,  that  the  writer  of  it  was  at  that  time  making 
about   £10,000  or   £12,000  a-year:— 

" encloses  a  trifle  (one  guinea)  to  Dr. ;  wishes 

it  may  be  serviceable ;  but  must  say,  that  when  young 
men  attempt  a  station  in  life  without  competent  funds 
to  meet  it,  they  cannot  wonder  if  they  fail. 

" Square." 

The    other    quarter    was    old    Mr.  G ,    our  Indian 

lodger.  Though  an  eccentric  and  reserved  man,  shun- 
ning all  company  except  that  of  a  favorite  black  servant, 
I  thought  he  might  yet  be  liberal.  As  he  was  something 
of  a  character,  I  must  be  allowed  a  word  or  two  about 
him,  in  passing.  Though  he  occupied  the  whole  of  the 
first  floor  of  my  house,  I  seldom  saw  him.  In  truth,  he 
M^as  little  else  than  a  bronze  fireside  fixture — all  day 
long,  summer  and  winter,  protected  from  the  intrusion  of 
draughts  and  visitors,  which  equally  annoyed  him,  by  a 
huge  folding-screen — swathed,  mummy-like,  in  flannel 
and  furs — squalling  incessant  execrations  against  the 
chilly  English  climate — and  solacing  himself,  alternately, 
with  sleep,  caudle,  and  curry.  He  would  sit  for  hours 
listening  to  a  strange  cluttering  (I  know  no  word  but 
this  that  can  give  anything  like  an  idea  of  it),  and  most 
melancholy  noise,  uttered  by  his  black  grizzle-headed 
servant — which  I  was  given  to  understand  was  a  species 
of  Indian  song — evincing  his  satisfaction  by  a  face  cu- 
riously puckered  together,  and  small,  beady  black  eyes, 
glittering  with  the  light  of  vertical  suns ;  thus,  I  say,  he 
would  sit  till  both  dropt  asleep.    He  was  very  fond  of 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  31 

this  servant  (whose  name  was  CHnquabor,  or  something 
of  that  sort),  and  yet  would  kick  and  strike  him  with 
great  violence  on  the  slightest  occasions. 

Without  being  sordidly  self-interested,  I  candidly  ac- 
knowledge, that  on  receiving  him  into  our  house,  and 
submitting  to  divers  inconveniences  from  his  strange 
foreign  fancies,  I  had  calculated  on  his  proving  a  lucra- 
tive lodger.  I  was,  however,  very  much  mistaken.  He 
uniformly  discouraged  my  visits,  by  evincing  the  utmost 
restlessness,  and  even  trepidation,  whenever  I  ap- 
proached. He  was  more  tolerant  to  my  wife's  visits ;  but 
even  to  her  could  not  help  intimating  in  pretty  plain 
terms,  on  more  occasions  than  one,  that  he  had  no  idea 
of  being  "drugged  to  death  by  his  landlord."  On  one  oc- 
casion, however,  his  servant  came  stuttering  with  agita- 
tion into  my  room,  that  "hib  massa  wis  to  see — a — a 
Docta."  I  found  him  suffering  from  the  heartburn ;  sub- 
mitted to  his  asthmatic  querulousness  for  nearly  half  an 
hour;  prescribed  the  usual  remedies;  and  received  in  re- 
turn— a  guinea? — No,  a  curious,  ugly,  and  perfectly  use- 
less cane,  with  which  (to  enchance  its  value)  he  assured 
me  he  had  once  kept  a  large  snake  at  bay !  On  another 
occasion,  in  return  for  similar  professional  assistance,  he 
dismissed  me  without  tendering  me  a  fee,  or  anything 
instead  of  it ;  but  sent  for  my  wife  in  the  course  of  the 
afternoon,  and  presented  her  with  a  hideous  little  cracked 
china  teapot,  the  lid  fastened  with  a  dingy  silver  chain, 
and  the  lip  of  the  spout  bearing  evident  marks  of  an 
ancient  compound  fracture.  He  was  singularly  exact  in 
everything  he  did ;  he  paid  his  rent,  for  instance,  at  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning  every  quarter  day,  as  long  as  he 
lived  with  me. 

Such  was  the  man  whose  assistance  I  had  at  last  de- 
termined to  ask.  With  infinite  hesitation  and  embarrass- 
ment, I  stated  my  circumstances.  He  fidgeted  sadly,  till 
I  concluded,  almost  inarticulate  with  agitation,  by  solici- 
ting the  loan  of  300  pounds — ofifering  at  the  same  time, 
to  deposit  with  him  the  lease  of  my  house  as  a  collateral 
security  for  what  he  might  advance  me. 


32  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"My  God !"  he  exclaimed,  falling  back  in  his  chair,  and 
elevating  his  hands. 

"Would  you  favor  me  with  this  sum,  Mr.  G ?"  I 

inquired  in  a  respectful  tone. 

"Do  you  take  me,  doctor,  for  a  money-lender?" 

"No,  indeed,  sir;  but  for  an  obliging  friend  as  well  as 
lodger,  if  you  will  allow  me  the  liberty." 

"Ha !  you  think  me  a  rich  old  hunks  come  from  India, 
to  fling  his  gold  at  every  one  he  sees?" 

"May  I  beg  an  answer,  sir?"  said  I  after  a  pause. 

"I  cannot  lend  it  to  you,  doctor,"  he  replied  calmly,  and 
bowed  me  to  the  door.  I  rushed  down-stairs,  almost 
gnashing  my  teeth  with  fury.  The  Deity  seemed  to  have 
marked  me  with  a  curse.    No  one  would  listen  to  me ! 

The  next  day  my  rent  was  due ;  which  with  Mr.  G — 's 
rent,  and  the  savings  of  excruciating  parsimony,  I  con- 
trived to  meet.    Then  came  old  L !    Good  God!  what 

were  my  feelings  when  I  saw  him  hobble  up  to  my  door. 
I  civilly  assured  him,  with  a  quaking  heart  and  ashy 
cheeks,  but  with  the  calmness  of  despair,  that  though  it 
was  not  convenient  to-day,  he  should  have  it  in  the  morn- 
ing of  the  next  day.  His  greedy,  black,  Jewish  eye 
seemed  to  dart  into  my  very  soul.  He  retired,  appar- 
ently satisfied,  and  I  almost  fell  down  and  blessed  him  on 
my  knees  for  his  forbearance. 

It  was  on  Wednesday,  two  days  after  Christmas,  that 
my  dear  Emily  came  down-stairs  after  her  confinement. 
Though  pale  and  languid,  she  looked  very  lovely,  and  her 
fondness  for  me  seemed  redoubled.  By  way  of  honoring 
the  season,  and  welcoming  my  dear  wife  down-stairs,  in 
spite  of  my  fearful  embarrassment,  I  expended  my  last 
guinea  in  providing  a  tolerably  comfortable  dinner,  such 
as  I  had  not  sat  down  to  for  many  a  long  week.  I  was 
determined  to  cast  care  aside  for  one  day  at  least.  The 
little  table  was  set;  the  small  but  savory  roast  beef  was 
on ;  and  I  was  just  drawing  the  cork  of  a  solitary  bottle 
of  port,  when  a  heavy  knock  was  heard  at  the  street  door. 
I  almost  fainted  at  the  sound — I  knew  not  why.  The 
servant  answered  the  door,  and  two  men  entered  the 


THE  DIARY   OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  33 

very  parlor,  holding  a  thin  slip  of  parchment  in  their 
hands. 

"In  God's  name,  who  are  you? — what  brings  you 
here?"  I  inquired,  or  rather  gasped — while  my  wife  sat 
silent,  trembling,  and  looking  very  faint. 

"Are  you  the  gentleman  that  is  named  here?"  inquired 
one  of  the  men,  in  a  civil  and  very  compassionate  tone — 

showing  me  a  writ  issued  by  old  L ,  for  the  money  I 

owed  him!  My  poor  wife  saw  my  agitation,  and  the 
servant  arrived  just  in  time  to  preserve  her  from  falling, 
for  she  had  fainted.  I  had  her  carried  to  bed,  and  was 
permitted  to  wait  by  her  bedside  for  a  few  moments; 
when,  more  dead  than  alive,  I  surrendered  myself  into 
the  hands  of  the  officers.  "Lord,  sir,"  said  they  as  I 
walked  between  them,  "this  here  is  not,  by  no  manner  of 
means,  an  uncommon  thing,  d'ye  see — though  it's  rather 
hard,  too,  to  leave  one's  dinner  and  one's  wife  so  sudden ! 
But  you'll,  no  doubt,  soon  get  bailed — and  then,  you  see, 
there's  a  little  time  for  turning  in !"  I  answered  not  a 
syllable — for  I  felt  suffocated.  Bail — where  was  I — a 
poor,  unknown,  starving  physician — to  apply  for  it? 
Even  if  I  could  succeed  in  finding  it,  would  it  not  be  un- 
principled to  take  their  security  when  I  had  no  con- 
ceivable means  of  meeting  the  fearful  claim?  What  is  the 
use  of  merely  postponing  the  evil  day,  in  order  to  aggra- 
vate its  horrors?  I  shall  never  forget  that  half-hour,  if 
I  were  to  live  a  thousand  years.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  step- 
ping into  my  grave.  My  heart  was  utterly  withered 
within  me. 

A  few  hours  beheld  me  the  sullen  and  despairing  occu- 
pant of  the  back  attic  of  the  sponging-house  near  Leices- 
ter Square.  The  weather  was  bitterly  inclement,  yet  no 
fire  was  allowed  one  who  had  not  a  farthing  to  pay  for  it 
■ — since  I  had  slipped  the  only  money  I  had  in  the  world — 
three  shillings — into  the  pocket  of  my  insensible  wife  at 
parting.  Had  it  not  been  for  my  poor  Emily  and  my 
child,  I  think  I  should  have  put  an  end  to  my  miserable 
existence;  for  to  prison  I  must  go — if  there  was  no  mir- 
acle to  save  me ;  and  what  was  to  become  of  Emily  and 


34  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

her  little  one?  Jewels  she  had  none  to  pawn — my  books 
had  nearly  all  disappeared — the  scanty  remnants  of  our 
furniture  were  not  worth  selling.  Great  God!  I  was 
nearly  frantic  when  I  thought  of  all  this.  I  sat  up  the 
whole  night  without  fire  or  candle  (  for  the  brutal  wretch 
in  whose  custody  I  was,  suspected  I  had  money  with  me, 
and  would  not  part  with  it)  till  nearly  seven  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  when  1  sank  in  a  state  of  stupor,  on  the  bed, 
and  fell  asleep.  How  long  I  continued  so  I  know  not; 
for  I  was  roused  from  a  dreary  dream  by  some  one  em- 
bracing me,  and  repeatedly  kissing  my  lips  and  forehead. 
It  was  my  poor  Emily!  who  at  the  imminent  risk  of  her 
life,  having  found  out  where  I  was,  had  hurried  to  bring 
me  the  news  of  release ;  for  she  had  succeeded  in  obtain- 
ing the  sum  of  300  pounds  from  our  lodger,  which  I  had 
in  vain  solicited.  We  returned  home  immediately.  I  has- 
tened up-stairs  to  our  lodger  to  express  the  most  enthusi- 
astic thanks.  He  listened,  without  interruption,  and  then 
coldly  replied — "I  would  rather  have  your  note  of  hand, 
sir."  Almost  choked  with  mortification  at  receiving  such 
an  unfeeling  rebufif,  I  gave  him  what  he  asked,  ex- 
pecting nothing  more  than  that  he  would  presently  act 

the  part  of  old  L .    He  did  not,  however,  trouble  me. 

The  few  pounds  above  what  was  due  to  our  relentless 
creditor  L ,  sufficed  to  meet  some  of  our  more  press- 
ing exigencies,  but,  as  they  gradually  disappeared,  my 
prospects  became  darker  than  ever.  The  agitation  and 
distress  which  recent  occurrences  had  occasioned,  threw 
my  wife  mto  a  low,  nervous,  hysterical  state,  which  add- 
ed to  my  misfortunes ;  and  her  little  infant  was  sensibly 
pining  away,  as  if  in  unconscious  sympathy  with  its 
wretched  parents.  Where  now  were  we  to  look  for  help? 
We  had  a  new  creditor,  to  a  serious  amount,  in  Mr. 
G ,  our  lodger ;  whatever,  therefore,  might  be  the  ex- 
tremity of  our  distress,  applying  to  him  was  out  of  the 
question ;  nay,  it  would  be  well  if  he  proved  a  lenient 
creditor.  The  hateful  annuity  was  again  becoming  due. 
It  pressed  like  an  incubus  upon  us.  The  form  of  old 
L flitted  incessantly  around  us,  as  though  it  were  a 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  35 

fiend,  goading  us  on  to  destruction.  I  am  sure  I  must 
often  have  raved  frightfully  in  my  sleep ;  for  more  than 
once  I  was  woke  by  my  wife  clinging  to  me,  and  ex- 
claiming in  terrified  accents,  "Oh,  hush,  hush don't, 

for  Heaven's  sake,  say  so !" 

To  add  to  my  misery,  she  and  the  infant  began  to 
keep  their  bed ;  and  our  lodger,  whose  constitution  had 
been  long  ago  broken  up,  began  to  fail  rapidly.  I  was  in 
daily  and  most  harassing  attendance  on  him ;  but,  of 
course,  could  not  expect  a  fee,  as  I  was  already  his  debtor 
to  a  large  amount.  I  had  three  patients  who  paid  me 
regularly,  but  only  one  was  a  daily  patient ;  and  I  was 
obliged  to  lay  by,  out  of  these  small  incomings,  a  cruel 

portion  to  meet  my  rent  and  L 's  annuity.     Surely 

my  situation  was  now  like  that  of  the  fabled  scorpion, 
surrounded  with  fiery  destruction !  Every  one  in  the 
house  and  my  few  acquaintances  without,  expressed  sur- 
prise and  commiseration  at  ray  wretched  appearance.  I 
was  worn  almost  to  a  skeleton ;  and  when  I  looked  sud- 
denly in  the  glass,  my  worn  and  hollow  looks  startled  me. 
]\Iy  fears  magnified  the  illness  of  my  wife.  The  whole 
world  seemed  melting  away  from  me  into  gloom  and 
darkness. 

My  thoughts  I  well  recollect  seemed  to  be  perpetually 
occupied  with  the  dreary  image  of  a  desolate  churchyard, 
wet  and  cold  with  the  sleets  and  storms  of  winter.  Oh, 
that  I,  and  my  wife  and  child,  I  have  sometimes  madly 
thought,  were  sleeping  peacefully  in  our  long  home !  Why 
were  we  brought  into  the  world? — why  did  my  nature 
prompt  me  to  seek  my  present  station  in  society — merely 
for  the  purpose  of  reducing  me  to  the  dreadful  condition 
of  him  of  old,  whose  only  consolation  from  his  friends 
was — Curse  God,  and  die!  What  had  we  done — ^what 
had  our  forefathers  done — that  Providence  should  thus 
frown  upon  us,  thwarting  everything  we  attempted? 

Fortune,  however,  at  last  seemed  tired  of  persecuting 
me ;  and  my  affairs  took  a  favorable  turn  when  most  they 
needed  it,  and  when  least  I  expected  it.  On  what  small 
and  insignificant  things  do  our  fates   depend !  Truly — 


36  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 

Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune. 

About  eight  o'clock  one  evening  in  the  month  of 
March,  I  was  walking  down  the  Haymarket  as  usual,  in 
a  very  disconsolate  mood,  in  search  of  some  shop  where 
I  might  execute  a  small  commission  for  my  wife.  The 
whole  neighborhood  in  front  of  the  Opera-house  door 
exhibited  the  usual  scene  of  uproar,  arising  from  clashing 
carriages  and  quarrelsome  coachmen.  I  was  standing  at 
the  box-door,  watching,  with  sickening  feelings,  the  com- 
pany descend  from  their  carriages,  when  a  cry  was  heard 
from  the  very  centre  of  the  crowd  of  coaches — "Run  for 
a  doctor!"  I  rushed  instantly  to  the  spot,  at  the  peril  of 
my  life,  announcing  my  profession.  I  soon  made  my  way 
up  to  the  open  door  of  the  carriage  from  which  issued  the 
moanings  of  a  female,  evidently  in  great  agony.  The 
accident  was  this :  A  young  lady  had  suddenly  stretched 
her  arm  through  the  open  window  of  the  carriage  convey- 
ing her  to  the  opera,  for  the  purpose  of  pointing  out  to 
one  of  her  companions  a  brilliant  illumination  of  one  of 
the  opposite  houses.  At  that  instant  their  coachman, 
dashing  forward  to  gain  the  open  space  opposite  the  box 
door,  shot,  with  great  velocity  and  within  a  hair's  breadth 
distance,  past  a  retiring  carriage.  The  consequence  was 
inevitable ;  a  sudden  shriek  announced  the  dislocation 
of  the  young  lady's  shoulder,  and  the  shocking  laceration 
of  the  forearm  and  hand.  When  I  arrived  at  the  car- 
riage door,  the  unfortunate  sufferer  was  lying  motionless 
in  the  arms  of  an  elderly  gentleman  and  a  young  lady, 
both  of  them,  as  might  be  expected  dreadfully  agitated. 

It  was  the  Earl  of and  his  two  daughters.  Having 

entered  the  carriage,  I  placed  my  fair  patient  in  such  a 
position  as  would  prevent  her  suffering  more  {han  was 
necessary  from  the  motion  of  the  carriage — despatched 
one  of  the  servants  for  Mr.  Cline  to  meet  us  on  our  ar- 
rival, and  then  the  coachman  was  ordered  to  drive  home 
as  fast  as  possible.  I  need  not  say  more  than  that,  by  Mr. 
Cline's  skill,  the  dislocation  was  quickly  reduced,  and  the 
wounded  hand  and  arm  duly  dressed.    I  then  prescribed 


1 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  37 

what  medicines  were  necessary — received  a  check  for 
ten  guineas  from  the  Earl,  accompanied  with  fervent 
thanks  for  my  prompt  attentions,  and  was  requested  to 
call  as  early  as  possible  the  next  morning. 

As  soon  as  I  had  left  his  lordship's  door,  I  shot  home- 
ward like  an  arrov/.  My  good  fortune,  (truly  it  is  an  ill 
wind  that  blows  nobody  any  good)  was  almost  too  much 
for  me.  I  could  scarce  repress  the  violence  of  my  emo- 
tions, but  felt  a  continual  inclination  to  relieve  myself,  by 
singing,  shouting,  or  committing  some  other  such  ex- 
travagance. I  arrived  at  home  in  a  very  few  minutes,  and 
rushed  breathless  up-stairs,  joy  glittering  in  my  eyes, 
to  communicate — inarticulate  with  emotion — my  good 
fortune  to  my  wife,  and  congratulate  ourselves  that  the 
door  of  professional  success  seemed  at  length  really 
opened  to  us.  How  tenderly  she  tried  to  calm  my  ex- 
citement, and  moderate  my  expectations,  without,  at  the 
same  time,  depressing  my  spirits !  I  did  certainly  feel 
somewhat  damped,  when  I  recollected  the  little  incident 

of  my  introduction  to  Sir  William  ,  and  its  abrupt 

and  unexpected  termination.  This,  however,  seemed  a 
very  different  affair ;  and  the  event  proved  that  my  ex- 
pectations were  not  ill-founded. 

I  continued  in  constant  attendance  on  my  fair  patient, 
who  was  really  a  very  lovely  girl ;  and  by  unremitting 
and  anxious  attentions,  so  conciliated  the  favor  of  the 
Earl  and  the  rest  of  the  family,  that  the  Coun- 
tess, who  had  long  been  an  invalid,  was  com- 
mitted to  my  care,  jointly  with  that  of  the  fam- 
ily physician.  I  need  hardly  say,  that  my  poor 
services  were  most  nobly  remunerated ;  and  more 
than  this — having  succeeded  in  securing  the  con- 
fidence of  the  family,  it  was  not  many  weeks  before  I  had 
the  honor  of  visiting  one  or  two  of  their  connections  of 
high  rank ;  and  I  felt  conscious  that  I  was  laying  the 
foundation  of  a  fashionable  and  lucrative  practice.  With 
joy  unutterable,  I  contrived  to  be  ready  for  our  half- 
yearly  tormentor,  old   L ;  and  somewhat  surprised 

him,  by  asking,  with  an  easy  air — oh,  the  luxury  of  that 


434348 


38  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

moment ! — when  he  wished  for  a  return  of  his  principal. 
Of  course,  he  was  not  desirous  of  losing  such  interest  as 
I  was  paying. 

I  had  seen  too  much  of  the  bitterness  of  adversity  to 
suffer  the  dawn  of  good  fortune  to  elate  me  into  too  great 
confidence.  I  now  husbanded  my  resources  with  rigor- 
ous economy,  and  had,  in  return,  the  inexpressible  satis- 
faction of  being  able  to  pay  my  way,  and  stand  fair  with 
all  my  creditors.  Oh,  the  rapture  of  being  able  to  pay 
every  one  his  own !  My  beloved  Emily  appeared  in  that 
society  which  she  was  born  to  ornament ;  and  we  num- 
bered several  families  of  high  respectability  among  our 
visiting  friends.  As  is  usual  in  such  cases,  whenever 
accident  threw  me  in  the  way  of  those  who  formerly 
scowled  upon  me  contemptuously,  I  was  received  with 
an  excess  of  civility.  The  very  physician  who  sent  me 
the  munificent  donation  of  a  guinea,  I  met  in  consulta- 
tion, and  made  his  cheeks  tingle,  by  returning  him  the 
loan  he  had  advanced  me! 

In  four  years  time  from  the  occurrence  at  the  Hay- 
market,  I  contrived  to  pay  old  L his  £3000  (though 

he  did  not  live  a  month  after  signing  the  receipt),  and 
thus  escaped — blessed  be  God ! — forever  from  the  fangs 
of  the  money-lenders.  A  word  or  two,  also,  about  the 
Indian  lodger.  He  died  about  eighteen  months  after  the 
accident  I  have  been  relating.  His  sole  heir  was  a 
young  lieutenant  in  the  navy;  and  very  much  to  my 

surprise  and  gratification,  in  a  codicil  to  old  Mr.  G 's 

will,  I  was  left  a  legacy  of  £2000,  including  the  £300  he 
had  lent  me,  saying  it  was  some  return  for  the  many 
attentions  he  had  received  from  us  since  he  had  been  our 
lodger,  and  as  a  mark  of  his  approbation  of  the  honor- 
able and  virtuous  principles  by  which,  he  said,  he  had 
always  perceived  our  conduct  to  be  actuated. 

Twelve  years  from  this  period,  my  income  amounted 
to  between  £3000  and  £4000  a-year;  and  as  my  family 
was  increasing,  I  thought  my  means  warranted  a  more 
extensive  establishment.  I  therefore  removed  into  a  large 
and  elegant  house  and  set  up  my  carriage.    The  recollec- 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 


39 


tion  of  past  times  has  taught  me  at  least  one  useful  les- 
son— whether  my  life  be  long  or  short — to  bear  success 
with  moderation,  and  never  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  appli- 
cations from  the  younger  and  less  successful  members 
of  my  profession. 

Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity; 
Which,  like  a  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 
Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  his  head. 


CHAPTER  II. 


CANCER. 

NE  often  hears  of  the  great  firmness  of  the  female 
sex,  and  their  powers  of  enduring  a  degree  of 
physical  pain,  which  would  utterly  break  down 
the  stubborn  strength  of  man.  An  interesting 
exemplification  of  this  remark  will  be  found  in  the  short 
narrative  immediately  following.  The  event  made  a 
strong  impression  on  my  mind  at  the  time,  and  I  thought 
it  well  worthy  of  an  entry  in  my  Diary. 

I  had  for  several  months  been  in  constant  attendance 

on  a  Mrs.  St. ,  a  young  married  lady  of  considerable 

family  and  fortune,  who  was  the  victim  of  that  terrible 
scourge  of  the  female  sex,  a  cancer.  To  great  per- 
sonal attractions,  she  added  uncommon  sweetness  of  dis- 
position ;  and  the  fortitude  with  which  she  submitted  to 
the  agonizing  inroads  of  her  malady,  together  with  her 
ardent  expressions  of  gratitude  for  such  temporary 
alleviations  as  her  anxious  medical  attendants  could  sup- 
ply, contributed  to  inspire  me  with  a  very  lively  interest 
in  her  fate.  I  can  conscientiously  say,  that,  during  the 
whole  period  of  my  attendance,  I  never  heard  a  word  of 
complaint  fall  from  her,  nor  witnessed  any  indications 
of  impatience  or  irritability.  I  found  her,  one  morning, 
stretched  on  the  crimson  sofa  in  the  drawing-room ;  and, 
though  her  pallid  features  and  gently  corrugated  eye- 
brows evidenced  the  intense  agony  she  was  suffering,  on 
my  inquiring  what  sort  of  a  night  she  had  passed,  she 
replied,  in  a  calm  but  tremulous  tone,  "Oh,  doctor,  I  have 

had  a  dreadful  night!  but  I  am  glad  Captain  St. was 

not  with  me;  for  it  would  have  made  him  very  wretch- 
ed."   At  that  moment,  a  fine  flaxen-haired  little  boy,  her 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  41 

first  and  only  child,  came  running-  into  the  room,  his  blue 
laughing  eyes  glittering  with  innocent  merriment.  I  took 
him  on  my  knee  and  amused  him  with  my  watch,  in 
order  that  he  might  not  disturb  his  mother.  The  poor 
sufferer  after  gazing  on  him  with  an  air  of  intense  fond- 
ness for  some  moments,  suddenly  covered  her  eyes  with 
her  hands  (oh !  how  slender — how  snowy — how  almost 
transparent  was  that  hand!),  and  I  presently  saw  the 
tears  trickling  through  her  fingers ;  but  she  uttered  not 
a  word.  There  was  the  mother !  The  aggravated  malig- 
nity of  her  disorder  rendered  an  operation  at  length 
inevitable.  The  eminent  surgeon  who,  jointly  with  my- 
self, was  in  regular  attendance  on  her,  feelingly  communi- 
cated the  intelligence,  and  asked  whether  she  thought 
she  had  fortitude  enough  to  submit  to  an  operation?  She 
assured  him,  with  a  sweet  smile  of  resignation,  that  she 
had  for  some  time  been  suspecting  as  much,  and  had 
made  up  her  mind  to  submit  to  it;  but  on  two  conditions 
— that  her  husband  (who  was  then  at  sea)  should  not  be 
informed  of  it  till  it  was  over;  and  that,  during  the 
operation,  she  should  not  be  in  anywise  bound  or  blind- 
folded.    Her   calm   and   decisive   manner  convinced   me 

that  remonstrance  would  be  useless.    Sir looked  at 

me  with  a  doubtful  air.    She  observed  it  and  said,  *T  see 

what  you  are  thinking,  Sir ;  but  I  hope  to  show  you 

that  a  woman  has  more  courage  than  you  seem  willing 
to  give  her  credit  for."  In  short,  after  the  surgeon  had 
acquiesced  in  the  latter  condition — to  which  he  had  es- 
pecially demurred — a  day  was  fixed  for  the  operation — 

subject,  of  course,  to  Mrs.  St. 's  state  of  health. 

When  Wednesday  arrived,  it  was  with  some  agitation 

that  I  entered  Sir 's  carriage,  in  company  with  himself 

and  his  senior  pupil,  Mr. .  I  could  scarce  avoid  a  cer- 
tain nervous  tremor — unprofessional  as  it  may  seem — 
when  I  saw  the  servant  place  the  operating-case  on  the  seat 
of  the  carriage.  "Are  you  sure  you  have  everything  ready, 

Mr.  ?"  inquired  Sir ,  with  a  calm,  business-like 

air  which  somewhat  irritated  me.  On  being  assured  of 
the  affirmative,  and  after  cautiously  casting  his  eye  over 


42  THE  DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

the  case  of  instruments,*  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure, 

we  drove  off.    We  arrived  at  Mrs.  St. 's,  who  resided 

a  few  miles  from  town,  about  two  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, and  were  immediately  ushered  into  the  room  in 
which  the  operation  was  to  be  performed — a  back  par- 
lor, the  window  of  which  looked  into  a  beautiful  gar- 
den. I  shall  be  pardoned,  I  hope,  for  acknowledging, 
that  the  glimpse  I  caught  of  the  pale  and  disordered 
countenance  of  the  servant,  as  he  retired  after  showing 
us  into  the  room,  somewhat  disconcerted  me;  for,  in 
addition  to  the  deep  interest  I  felt  in  the  fate  of  the  lovely 
sufferer,  I  had  always  an  abhorrence  for  the  operative  part 
of  the  profession,  which  many  years  of  practice  did  not 
suffice  to  remove.  The  necessary  arrangements  being  at 
length  completed — consisting  of  a  hateful  array  of  in- 
struments, cloths,  sponge,  warm  water,  etc.,  etc. — a  mes- 
sage was  sent  to  Mrs.  St. ,  to  inform  her  all  was  ready. 

Sir was  just  making  a  jocular  and  not  very  well 

timed  allusion  to  my  agitated  air,  when  the  door  was 
opened,  and  Mrs.  St. entered,  followed  by  her  attend- 
ants. Her  step  was  firm,  her  air  composed,  and  her  pale 
features  irradiated  with  a  smile — sad,  however,  as  the 
cold  twilight  of  October.  She  was  then  about  twenty-six 
or  seven  years  of  age — and  under  all  the  disadvantageous 
circumstances  in  which  she  was  placed,  looked  at  that 
moment  a  beautiful  woman.  Her  hair  was  light  auburn, 
and  hung  back  neglectedly  over  a  forehead  and  neck 
white  as  marble.  Her  full  blue  eyes,  which  usually 
beamed  with  a  delicious  pensive  expression  from 
beneath 

the  soft  languor  of  the  drooping  lid, 

were  now  lighted  with  the  glitter  of  a  restlessness  and 
agitation,  which  the  noblest  degree  of  self-command 
could  not  entirely  conceal  or  repress.  Her  features  were 
regular — her  nose  and  mouth  exquisitely  chiselled — and 

*I  once  saw  the  life  of  a  patient  lost,  merely  through  the  want 
of  such  simple  precaution  as  that  of  Sir ,  in  the  present  in- 
stance. An  indispensable  instrument  was  suddenly  required  in 
the  midst  of  the  operation;  and,  to  the  dismay  of  the  operator 
and  those  around  him,  there  was  none  at  hand! 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  43 

her  complexion  fair,  almost  to  transparency.  Indeed, 
an  eminent  medical  writer  has  remarked,  that  the  most 
beautiful  women  are  generally  the  subjects  of  this  ter- 
rible disease.  A  large  Indian  shawl  was  thrown  over  her 
shoulders,  and  she  wore  a  white  muslin  dressing-gown. 
And  was  it  this  innocent  and  beautiful  being  who  was 
doomed  to  writhe  beneath  the  torture  and  disfigurement 
of  the  operating  knife?  My  heart  ached.  A  decanter  of 
port  wine  and  some  glasses  were  placed  on  a  small  table 
near  the  window;  she  beckoned  me  towards  it,  and  was 
going  to  speak. 

"Allow  me,  my  dear  madam,  to  pour  you  a  glass  of 
wine,"  said  I — or  rather  faltered. 

"If  it  would  do  me  good,  doctor,"  she  whispered.  She 
barely  touched  the  glass  with  her  lips,  and  then  handed 
one  to  me,  saying,  with  assumed  cheerfulness,  "Come, 
doctor,  I  see  you  need  it  as  much  as  I  do,  after  all.  Yes, 
doctor,"  she  continued,  with  emphasis,  "you  are  very, 
very  kind  and  feeling  to  m^e."  When  I  had  set  down  the 
glass  she  continued,  "Dear  doctor,  do  forgive  a 
woman's  weakness,  and  try  if  you  can  hold  this  letter, 

which  I  received  yesterday  from  Captain  ,  and  in 

which  he  speaks  very  fondly,  so  that  my  eyes  may  rest 
on  his  dear  handwriting  all  the  while  I  am  sitting  here, 
without  being  noticed  by  any  one  else — will  you?" 

"Madam,  you  must  really  excuse  me — it  will  agitate 
you —  I  must  beg" — 

"You  are  mistaken,"  she  replied,  with  firmness;  "it 
will  rather  compose  me.  And  if  I  should" — expire,  she 
was  going  to  have  said — but  her  tongue  refused  utter- 
ance. She  then  put  the  letter  into  my  hand — hers  was 
cold,  icy  cold  and  clammy — but  I  did  not  perceive  it 
tremble. 

"In  return,  madam,  you  must  give  me  leave  to  hold 
your  hand  during  the  operation." 

"What — you  fear  me,  doctor?"  she  replied,  with  a  faint 
smile,  but  did  not  refuse  my  request.     At  this  moment, 

Sir approached  us  with  a  cheerful  air,  saying,  "Well, 

madam,  is  your  tete-a-tete  finished?     I  want  to  get  this 


44  THE  DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

little  matter  over,  and  give  you  permanent  ease."  I  do 
not  think  there  ever  lived  a  professional  man  who  could 
speak  with  such  an  assuring  air  as  Sir ! 

"I  am  ready,  Sir  .     Are  the  servants  sent  out?'* 

she  inquired  from  one  of  the  women  present. 

"Yes,  madam,"  she  replied,  in  tears. 

"And  my  little  Harry  ?"  Mrs.  St. asked,  in  a  fainter 

tone.    She  was  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"Then  I  am  prepared,"  said  she,  and  sat  down  in  the 
chair  that  was  placed  for  her.  One  of  the  attendants 
then  removed  the  shawl  from  her  shoulders,  and  Mrs. 
St. herself,  with  perfect  composure,  assisted  in  dis- 
placing as  much  of  her  dress  as  was  necessary.    She  then 

suffered  Sir to  place  her  on  the  corner  side  of  the 

chair,  with  her  left  arm  thrown  over  the  back  of  it,  and 
her  face  looking  over  her  left  shoulder.  She  gave  me  her 
right  hand;  and  with   my  left,   I   endeavored   to  hold 

Captain  St. 's  letter,  as  she  had  desired.    She  smiled 

sweetly,  as  if  to  assure  me  of  her  fortitude;  and  there 
was  something  so  indescribably  affecting  in  the  expres- 
sion of  her  full  blue  eyes,  that  it  almost  broke  my  heart. 
I  shall  never  forget  that  smile  as  long  as  I  live!  Half 
closing  her  eyes,  she  fixed  them  on  the  letter  I  held — and 
did  not  once  remove  them  till  all  was  over.  Nothing 
could  console  me  at  this  trying  moment,  but  a  conviction 

of  the  consummate  skill  of  Sir  ,  who  now,  with  a 

calm  eye  and  a  steady  hand,  commenced  the  operation. 
At  the  instant  of  the  first  incision,  her  whole  frame  quiv- 
ered with  a  convulsive  shudder,  and  her  cheeks  became 
ashy  pale.  I  prayed  inwardly  that  she  might  faint,  so 
that  the  earlier  stage  of  the  operation  might  be  got  over 
while  she  was  in  a  state  of  insensibility.  It  was  not  the 
case,  however — her  eyes  continued  riveted,  in  one  long 
burning  gaze  of  fondness,  on  the  beloved  handwriting 
of  her  husband ;  and  she  moved  not  a  limb,  nor  uttered 
more  than  an  occasional  sigh,  during  the  whole  of  the 
protracted  and  painful  operation.  When  the  last  bandage 
had  been  applied,  she  whispered  almost  inarticulately,  "Is 
it  all  over,  doctor?" 


THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  45 

"Yes,  madam,"  I  replied,  "and  we  are  going  to  carry 
you  up  to  bed." 

"No,  no — I  think  I  can  walk — I  will  try,"  said  she,  and 

endeavored  to  rise ;  but  on  Sir  's  assuring  her  that 

the  motion  might  perhaps  induce  fatal  consequences,  she 
desisted,  and  we  carried  her,  sitting  in  the  chair,  up  to 
bed.     The  instant  he  had  laid  her  down  she  swooned — 

and  continued  so  long  insensible,  that  Sir  held  a 

looking-glass  over  her  mouth  and  nostrils,  apprehensive 
that  the  vital  energies  had  at  last  sunk  under  the  terrible 
struggle.  She  recovered,  however;  and  under  the  in- 
fluence of  an  opiate  draught,  slept  for  several  hours. 

Mrs.  St. recovered,  though  very  slowly ;  and  I  at- 
tended her  assiduously — sometimes  two  or  three  times 
a  day,  till  she  could  be  removed  to  the  seaside.  I  shall 
not  easily  forget  an  observation  she  made  at  the  last  visit 
I  paid  her.  She  was  alluding,  one  morning,  distantly  and 
delicately,  to  the  personal  disfigurement  she  had  suffered. 
I,  of  course,  said  all  that  was  soothing. 

"But,  doctor,  my  husband" — said  she  suddenly,  while 
a  faint  crimson  mantled  on  her  cheek — adding,  falter- 
ingly,  after  a  pause,  "I  think  St. will  love  me  yet!" 


CHAPTER  III. 


A  SCHOLAR'S  DEATHBED, 

UCH  more  of  the  following  short,  but  melan- 
choly, narrative,  might  have  been  committed 
to  press ;  but  as  it  would  have  related  chiefly 
il   to  a  mad  devotion  to  alchemy,  which  some  of 

Mr.  's  few  posthumous  papers  abundantly  evidence 

it  is  omitted  lest  the  reader  should  consider  the  details 
as  romantic  or  improbable.  All  that  is  worth  recording 
is  told ;  and  it  is  hoped  that  some  young  men  of  powerful, 
undisciplined,  and  ambitious  minds,  will  find  their  ac- 
count in  an  attentive  consideration  of  the  fate  of  a  kindred 
spirit.  Bene  facit,  qui  ex  aliorum  erroribus  sibi  exemplum 
sumat. 

Thinking  one  morning  that  I  had  gone  through  the 
whole  of  my  usual  levee  of  home  patients,  I  was  pre- 
paring to  go  out,  when  the  servant  informed  me  there 
was  one  yet  to  be  spoken  with,  who,  he  thought,  must 
have  been  asleep  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  else  he  could 
not  have  failed  to  summon  him  in  his  turn.  Directing  him 
to  be  shown  in  immediately,  I  retook  my  place  at  my 
desk.  The  servant,  in  a  few  moments,  ushered  in  a 
young  man,  who  seemed  to  have  scarce  strength  enough, 
even  with  the  assistance  of  a  walking-stick,  to  totter  to  a 
chair  opposite  me.  I  was  much  struck  with  his  appear- 
ance, which  was  that  of  one  in  reduced  circumstances. 
His  clothes,  though  perfectly  clean  and  neat,  were  faded 
and  threadbare;  and  his  coat  was  buttoned  up  to  his 
chin,  where  it  was  joined  by  a  black  silk  neckerchief,  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  lead  me  to  suspect  the  absence  of  a 
shirt.  He  was  rather  below  than  above  the  average 
height,  and  seemed  wasted  almost  to  a  shadow.     There 


THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  47 

was  an  air  of  superior  ease  and  politeness  in  his  de- 
meanor; and  an  expression  about  his  countenance, 
sickly  and  sallow  though  it  was,  so  melancholy,  mild,  and 
intelligent,  that  I  could  not  help  viewing  him  with 
peculiar  interest. 

"I  was  afraid,  my  friend,  I  should  have  missed  you," 
said  I,  in  a  kind  tone,  "as  I  was  on  the  point  of  going 
out." — "I  heard  your  carriage  drive  up  to  the  door,  doc- 
tor, and  shall  not  detain  you  more  than  a  few  moments : 
nay,  I  will  call  to-morroAv,  if  that  would  be  more  con- 
venient," he  replied  faintly,  suddenly  pressing  his  hand 
to  his  side,  as  though  the  efTort  of  speaking  occasioned 
him  pain.  I  assured  him  I  had  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at 
his  service,  and  begged  he  would  proceed  at  once  to  state 
the  nature  of  his  complaint.  He  detailed  what  I  had  an- 
ticipated from  his  appearance — all  the  symptoms  of  a 
very  advanced  stage  of  pulmonary  consumption.  He  ex- 
pressed himself  in  very  select  and  forcible  language,  and 
once  or  twice,  when  at  a  loss  for  what  he  conceived  an 
adequate  expression  in  English,  chose  such  an  appro- 
priate Latin  phrase,  that  the  thought  perpetually  sug- 
gested itself  to  me,  while  he  was  speaking — a  starved 
scholar!  He  had  notmade  the  most  distant  allusion  topov- 
erty,  but  confined  himself  to  the  leading  symptoms  of 
his  indisposition.  I  determined,  however,  (hand  prcstcr- 
itorum  immcmoi'\)  to  ascertain  his  circumstances,  with 
a  view,  if  possible,  of  relieving  them.  I  asked  if  he  ate 
animal  food  with  relish — enjoyed  his  dinner — whether 
his  meals  were  regular.  He  colored,  and  hesitated  a  lit- 
tle, for  I  put  the  question  searchingly ;  and  replied,  with 
some  embarrassment,  that  he  did  not,  certainly,  then 
eat  regularly,  nor  enjoy  his  food  when  he  did.  I  soon 
found  that  he  was  in  very  straitened  circumstances ; 
that,  in  short,  he  was  sinking  rapidly  under  the  pres- 
sure of  want  and  harrassing  anxiety,  which  alone  had 
accelerated,  if  not  wholly  induced,  his  present  illness ; 
and  that  all  that  he  had  to  expect  from  medical  aid  was  a 
little  alleviation.  I  prescribed  a  few  simple  medicines, 
and  then  asked  him  in  what  part  of  the  town  he  resided. 


48  THE  DIARY  OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

"I  am  afraid,  doctor,"  said  he  modestly,  "I  shall  be  un- 
able to  afford  your  visiting  me  at  my  own  lodgings.  I 
will  occasionally  call  on  you  here,  as  a  morning  patient," 
— and  he  proffered  me  half-a-guinea.  The  conviction 
that  it  was  probably  the  very  last  he  had  in  the  world, 
and  a  keen  recollection  of  similar  scenes  in  my  own  his- 
tory, almost  brought  the  tears  into  my  eyes.  I  refused 
the  fee,  of  course;  and  prevailed  on  him  to  let  me  set 
him  down,  as  I  was  driving  close  past  his  residence.  He 
seemed  overwhelmed  with  gratitude ;  and,  with  a  blush, 
hinted  that  he  was  "not  quite  in  carriage  costume."  He 
lived  in  one  of  the  small  streets  leading  from  May-fair; 
and  after  having  made  a  note  in  my  tablets  of  his  name 
and  number,  I  set  him  down,  promising  him  an  early 
call. 

The  clammy  pressure  of  his  wasted  fingers,  as  I  shook 
his  hand  at  parting,  remained  with  me  all  that  day.  I 
could  not  dismiss  from  my  mind  the  mild  and  sorrowful 
countenance  of  this  young  man,  go  where  I  would,  and 
I  was  on  the  point  of  mentioning  the  incident  to  a  most 
excellent  and  generous  nobleman,  whom  I  was  then 
attending,  and  soliciting  his  assistance,  but  the  thought 
that  it  was  premature  checked  me.  There  might  be  some- 
thing unworthy  in  the  young  man ;  he  might  possibly  be 
an — impostor.  These  were  hard  thoughts — chilling  and 
unworthy  suspicions — but  I  could  not  resist  them ;  alas ! 
an  eighteen  years'  intercourse  with  a  deceitful  world  has 
alone  taught  me  how  to  entertain  them ! 

As  my  wife  dined  a  little  way  out  of  town  that  even- 
ing, I  hastily  swallowed  a  solitary  meal,  and  set  out  in 
quest  of  my  morning  patient.  With  some  difficulty  I 
found  the  house ;  it  was  the  meanest,  and  in  the  meanest 
street  I  had  visited  for  months.  I  knocked  at  the  door, 
which  was  open,  and  surrounded  by  a  babbling  throng  of 
dirty  children.    A  slatternly  woman,  with  a  child  in  her 

arms,  answered  my  summons.     Mr. ,  she  said,  lived 

there,  in  the  top  floor ;  but  he  was  just  gone  out  for  a 
few  moments,  she  supposed,  "to  get  a  mouthful  of  vic- 
tuals, but  I  was  welcome  to  go  up  and  wait  for  him, 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  49 

since,"  said  the  rude  wretch,  "there  was  not  much  to 
make  away  with,  howsoever!"  One  of  her  children  led 
me  up  the  narrow,  dirty  staircase,  and  having  ushered 
me  into  the  room,  left  me  to  my  meditations.  A  wretched 
hole  it  was  in  which  I  was  sitting!  The  evening  sun 
streamed  in  discolored  rays  through  the  unwashed 
panes,  here  and  there  mended  with  brown  paper,  and  suf- 
ficed to  show  me  that  the  only  furniture  consisted  of  a 
miserable,  curtainless  bed  (the  disordered  clothes  show- 
ing that  the  weary  limbs  of  the  wretched  occupant  had 
but  recently  left  it) — three  old  rush-bottom  chairs,  and  a 
rickety  deal  table — on  which  were  scattered  several 
pages  of  manuscript,  a  letter  or  two,  pens,  ink,  and  a  few 
books.     There  was  no  chest  of  drawers — nor  did  I  see 

anything  likely  to  serve  as  a  substitute.     Poor  Mr.  

probably  carried  about  with  him  all  he  had  in  the  world ! 
There  was  a  small  sheet  of  writing-paper  pinned  over  the 
mantelpiece  (if  such  it  deserved  to  be  called),  which  I 
gazed  at  with  a  sigh ;  it  bore  simply  the  outline  of  a 
coffin,  with  Mr. 's  initials,  and  "obiit 18 — ,"  evi- 
dently in  his  own  handwriting.  Curious  to  see  the  kind 
of  books  he  preferred,  I  took  them  up  and  examined  them. 
There  were,  if  I  recollect  right,  a  small  Amsterdam  edi- 
tion of  Plautus — a  Horace — a  much  befingered  copy  of 
Aristophanes — a  neat  pocket  edition  of  ^schylus — a 
small  copy  of  the  works  of  Lactantius — and  two  odd  vol- 
umes of  English  books.  I  had  no  intention  of  being  im- 
pertinently inquisitive,  but  my  eye  accidentally  lit  on  the 
uppermost  manuscript,  and  seeing  it  to  be  in  the  Greek 
character,  I  took  it  up  and  found  a  few  verses  of 
Greek    sapphics,    entitled,    Eif  t^v  vvura  Televraiav —  evidently 

the  recent  composition  of  Mr. .    He  entered  the  room 

as  I  was  laying  down  the  paper,  and  started  at  seeing  a 
stranger,  for  it  seems  the  people  of  the  house  had  not 
taken  the  trouble  to  mform  him  I  was  waiting.  On  dis- 
covering who  it  was,  he  bowed  politely,  and  gave  me  his 
hand ;  but  the  sudden  agitation  my  presence  had  oc- 
casioned, deprived  him  of  utterance.     I  thought  I  could 


50  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

almost  hear  the  palpitation  of  his  heart.  I  brought  him 
to  a  chair,  and  begged  him  to  be  calm. 

"You  are  not  worse,  Mr. ,  I  hope,  since  I  saw  you 

this  morning?"  I  inquired.  He  whispered  almost  inartic- 
ulately, holding  his  hand  to  his  left  side,  that  he  was 
always  worse  in  the  evenings.  I  felt  his  pulse;  it  beat 
130!  I  discovered  that  he  had  gone  out  for  the  purpose 
of  trying  to  get  employment  in  a  neighboring  printing- 
office! — but,  having  failed,  had  returned  in  a  state  of 
deeper  depression  than  usual.  The  perspiration  rolled 
from  his  brow  almost  faster  than  he  could  wipe  it  away. 
I  sat  by  him  for  nearly  two  minutes,  holding  his  hand 
without  uttering  a  word,  for  I  was  deeply  affected.  At 
length  I  begged  he  would  forgive  my  inquiring  how  it 
was  that  a  young  man  of  talent  and  education,  like  him- 
self, could  be  reduced  to  a  state  of  such  utter  destitution? 
While  I  was  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  suddenly  fell 
from  his  chair  in  a  swoon.  The  exertion  of  walking,  the 
pressure  of  disappointment,  and,  I  fear,  the  almost  un- 
broken fast  of  the  day,  added  to  the  sudden  shock  oc- 
casioned by  encountering  me  in  his  room,  had  completely 
prostrated  the  small  remnant  of  his  strength.  When  he 
had  a  little  revived,  I  succeeded  in  laying  him  on  the  bed, 
and  instantly  summoned  the  woman  of  the  house.  After 
some  time,  she  sauntered  lazily  to  the  door,  and  asked 
me  what  I  wanted.  "Are  you  the  person  that  attends  on 
this  gentleman,  my  good  woman?"  I  inquired. 

"Marry!  come  up,  sir,"  she  replied  in  a  loud  tone — 
"I've  no  manner  of  cause  for  attending  on  him,  not  I ;  he 
ought  to  attend  on  himself:  and  as  for  his  being  a  gen- 
tleman," she  continued,  with  an  insolent  sneer,  for  which 
I  felt  heartily  inclined  to  throw  her  down  stairs,  "not  a 
stiver  of  his  money  have  I  seen  for  this  three  weeks  for 

his  rent,  and" Seeing  the  fluent  virago  was  warming 

and  approaching  close  to  my  unfortunate  patient's  bed- 
side, I  stopped  her  short  by  putting  half-a-guinea  into 
her  hand,  and  directing  her  to  purchase  a  bottle  of  port 
wine ;  at  the  same  time  hinting,  that,  if  she  conducted 
herself  properly,  I  would  see  her  rent  paid  myself.     I 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN             51 
then  shut  the  door,  and  resumed  my  seat  by  Mr.  , 


who  was  trembling  violently  all  over  with  agitation,  and 
endeavored  to  soothe  him.  The  more  I  said,  however, 
and  the  kinder  were  my  tones,  the  more  was  he  affected. 
At  length  he  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  continued 
weeping  for  some  time  like  a  child.  I  saw  it  was  hys- 
terical, and  that  it  was  best  to  let  his  feelings  have  their 
full  course.  His  nervous  excitement  at  length  gradually 
subsided,  and  he  began  with  tolerable  coolness. 

"Doctor," he  faltered, "your  conduct  is  very — very  noble 
— it  must  be  disinterested,"  pointing  with  a  bitter  air  to 
the  wretched  room  in  which  we  were  sitting. 

"I  feel  sure,  Mr. ,  that  you  have  done  nothing  to 

merit  your  present  misfortunes,"  I  replied,  with  a  serious 
and  inquiring  air. 

"Yes — yes,  I  have ! — I  have  indulged  in  wild  ambi- 
tious hopes — lived  in  absurd  dreams  of  future  greatness — 
been  educated  beyond  my  fortunes — and  formed  tastes 
and  cherished  feelings,  incompatible  with  the  station  it 
seems  I  was  born  to — beggary  or  daily  labor!"  was  his 
answer,  with  as  much  vehemence  as  his  weakness  would 
allow. 

"But,  Mr. ,  your  friends — your  relatives — they  can- 
not be  apprised  of  your  situation." 

"Alas !  doctor,  friends  I  have  none — unless  you  will 
permit  me  to  name  the  last  and  noblest — yourself;  rela- 
tives, several." 

"And  they,  of  course,  do  not  know  of  your  illness  and 
straitened  circumstances?" 

"They  do,  doctor — and  kindly  assure  me  I  have 
brought  it  on  myself.  To  do  them  justice,  however,  they 
could  not,  I  believe,  efficiently  help  me,  if  they  would." 

"Why,  have  you  offended  them,  Mr. ?    Have  they 

cast  you  off?" 

"Not  avowedly — not  in  so  many  words.  They  have 
simply  refused  to  receive  or  answer  any  more  of  my  let- 
ters. Possibly  I  may  have  offended  them,  but  am  con- 
tent to  meet  them  hereafter,  and  try  the  justice  of  the 
case — there,"  said  Mr. ,  solemnly  pointing  upwards. 


52  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

"Well  I  know,  and  so  do  you,  doctor,  that  my  days  on 
earth  are  very  few,  and  likely  to  be  very  bitter  also."  It 
was  in  vain  I  pressed  him  to  tell  me  who  his  relatives 
were,  and  suffer  me  to  solicit  their  personal  attendance 
on  his  last  moments.  "It  is  altogether  useless,  doctor, 
to  ask  me  further,"  said  he,  raising  himself  a  little  in 
bed — "my  father  and  mother  are  both  dead,  and  no 
power  on  earth  shall  extract  from  me  a  syllable  further. 
It  is  hard,"  he  continued,  bursting  again  into  tears,  "if  I 
must  die  amid  their  taunts  and  reproaches."  I  felt  quite 
at  a  loss  what  to  say  to  all  this.  There  was  something 
very  singular,  if  not  reprehensible,  in  his  manner  of  al- 
luding to  his  relatives,  which  led  me  to  fear  that  he  was 
by  no  means  free  from  blame.  Had  I  not  felt  myself  very 
delicately  situated,  and  dreaded  even  the  possibility  of 
hurting  his  morbidly  irritable  feelings,  I  felt  inclined  to 
ask  him  how  he  thought  of  existing  without  their 
aid,  especially  in  his  forlorn  and  helpless  state — having 
neither  friends  nor  the  means  of  obtaining  them.  I 
thought  also,  that,  short  as  had  been  my  intimacy  with 
him,  I  had  discerned  symptoms  of  a  certain  obstinacy, 
and  haughty  imperiousness  of  temper,  which  would  suf- 
ficiently account,  if  not  for  occasioning,  at  least  for  wid- 
ening any  unhappy  breach  which  might  have  occurred  in 
his  family.  But  what  was  to  be  done?  I  could  not  let 
him  starve ;  as  I  had  voluntarily  stepped  into  his  as- 
sistance, I  determined  to  make  his  last  moments  easy — 
at  least  as  far  as  lay  in  my  power. 

A  little  to  anticipate  the  course  of  my  narrative,  I  may 
here  state  what  information  concerning  him  was  elicited 
in  the  course  of  our  various  interviews.  His  father  and 
mother  had  left  Ireland,  their  native  place,  early,  and 
gone  to  Jamaica,  where  they  lived  as  slave  superintend- 
ents. They  left  their  only  son  to  the  care  of  the  wife's 
brother-in-law,  who  put  him  to  school,  where  he  much 
distinguished  himself.  On  the  faith  of  it,  he  contrived  to 
get  to  the  college  in  Dublin,  where  he  stayed  two  years ; 
and  then,  in  a  confident  reliance  on  his  own  talents,  and 
the  sum  of  £50,  which  was  sent  him  from  Jamaica,  with 


\ 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  53 

intelligence  of  the  death  of  both  his  parents  in  impover- 
ished circumstances,  he  had  come  up  to  London,  it  seems, 
with  no  very  definite  end  in  view.  Here  he  continued  for 
about  two  years;  but,  in  addition  to  the  failure  of  his 
health,  all  his  efforts  to  establish  himself  proved  abortive. 
He  contrived  to  glean  a  scanty  sum.  Heaven  knows  how, 
which  was  gradually  lessening  at  a  time  when  his  im- 
paired health  rather  required  that  his  resources  should 
be  augmented.  He  had  no  friends  in  respectable  life, 
whose  influence  or  wealth  might  have  been  serviceable ; 
and,  at  the  time  he  called  on  me,  he  had  not  more  in  the 
world  than  the  solitary  half-guinea  he  proffered  to  me  as 
a  fee.  I  never  learned  the  names  of  any  of  his  relatives ; 
but  from  several  things  occasionally  dropped  in  the  heat 
of  conversation,  it  was  clear  there  must  have  been  un- 
happy differences. 

To  return,  however.  As  the  evening  was  far  advanc- 
ing, and  I  had  one  or  two  patients  yet  to  visit,  I  began  to 
think  of  taking  my  departure.  I  enjoined  him  strictly  to 
keep  his  bed  till  I  saw  him  again,  to  preserve  as  calm 
and  equable  a  frame  of  mind  as  possible,  and  to  dis- 
miss all  anxiety  for  the  future,  as  I  would  gladly  supply 
his  present  necessities,  and  send  him  a  civil  and  attentive 
nurse.  He  tried  to  thank  me,  but  his  emotions  choked 
his  utterance.  He  grasped  my  hand  with  convulsive 
energy.  His  eye  spoke  eloquently;  but,  alas!  it  shone 
with  the  fierce  and  unnatural  lustre  of  consumption,  as 
though,  I  have  often  thought  in  such  cases,  the  conscious 
soul  was  glowing  with  the  reflected  light  of  its  kindred 
element — eternity.  I  knew  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
survive  many  days,  from  several  unequivocal  symptoms 
of  what  is  called,  in  common  language,  a  galloping  con- 
sumption. I  was  as  good  as  my  word,  and  sent  him  a 
nurse  (the  mother  of  one  of  my  servants),  who  was 
charged  to  pay  him  the  utmost  attention  in  her  power. 
My  wife  also  sent  him  a  little  bed-furniture,  linen,  pre- 
serves, jellies,  and  other  small  matters  of  that  sort.  I 
visited  him  every  evening,  and  found  him  on  each  occa- 
sion  verifying   my   apprehensions,   for   he   was   sinking 


64  THE  DIARY  OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

rapidly.  His  mental  energies,  however,  seemed  to  in- 
crease inversely  with  the  decline  of  his  physical 
powers.  His  conversation  was  animated,  various, 
and     at     times,     enchantingly     interesting.  I     have 

sometimes  sat  at  his  bedside  for  several  hours  to- 
gether, wondering  how  one  so  young  (he  was  not  more 
than  two  or  three  and  twenty)  could  have  acquired  so 
much  information.  He  spoke  with  spirit  and  justness 
on  the  leading  political  topics  of  the  day ;  and  I  particu- 
larly recollect  his  making  some  very  noble  reflections 
on  the  character  and  exploits  of  Bonaparte,  who  was 
then  blazing  in  the  zenith  of  his  glory.  Still,  however, 
the  current  of  his  thoughts  and  language  was  frequently 
tinged  with  the  enthusiasm  and  extravagance  of  de- 
lirium. Of  this  he  seemed  himself  conscious ;  for  he 
would  sometimes  suddenly  stop,  and  pressing  his  hand 
to  his  forehead,  exclaim,  "Doctor,  doctor,  I  am  failing 
here — here !"  He  acknowledged  that  he  had  from  his 
childhood  given  himself  up  to  the  dominion  of  am- 
bition ;  and  that  his  whole  life  had  been  spent  in  the 
most  extravagant  and  visionary  expectations.  He  would 
smile  bitterly  when  he  recounted  some  of  what  he  justly 
stigmatized  as  his  insane  projects.  "The  objects  of 
my  ambition,"  he  said,  "have  been  vague  and  general ;  I 
never  knew  exactly  where,  or  what,  I  would  be.  Had 
my  powers,  such  as  they  are,  been  concentrated  on  one 
point — had  I  formed  a  more  just  and  modest  estimate  of 
my  abilities — I  might  possibly  have  become  something. 
"Besides,  doctor,  I  had  no  money — no  solid  sub- 
stratum to  build  upon;  there  was  the  rotten  point!  O 
doctor!"  he  continued,  with  a  deep  sigh,  "if  I  could  but 
have  seen  these  things  three  years  ago,  as  I  see  them 
now,  I  might  at  this  moment  have  been  a  sober  and  re- 
spectable member  of  society;  but  now  I  am  dying — a 
hanger-on — a  fool — a  beggar!"  and  he  burst  into  tears. 
"You,  doctor,"  he  presently  continued,  "are  accustomed, 
I  suppose,  to  listen  to  these  deathbed  repinings — these 
soul-scourgings — these  wailings  over  a  badly-spent  life! 
Oh  yes ;  as  I  am  nearing  eternity  I  seem  to  look  at  things 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  55 

— at  my  own  mind  and  heart,  especially — through  the  me- 
dium of  a  strange,  searching,  unearthly  light !  Oh  !  how 
many,  many  things  it  makes  distinct,  which  I  would  fain 
have  forgotten  for  ever !  Do  you  recollect  the  terrible  lan- 
guage of  Scripture,  doctor,  which  compares  the  human 
breast  to  a  cage  of  unclean  birds?" — I  left  him  that  even- 
ing deeply  convinced  of  the  compulsory  truths  he  had 
uttered ;  I  never  thought  so  seriously  before.  It  is  some 
Scotch  divine  who  has  said,  that  one  deathbed  preaches  a 
more  startling  sermon  than  a  bench  of  bishops. 

Mr. was  an  excellent  and  thorough  Greek  scholar, 

perfectly  well  versed  in  the  Greek  dramatists,  and  pas- 
sionately fond,  in  particular,  of  Sophocles.  I  recollect  his 
reciting,  one  evening,  with  great  force  and  feeling,  the 
touching  exclamation  of  the  chorus,  in  the  CEdipus  Ty- 

il  TTOKOC — avaQivfia  ya^ 
(bei^u  nrjfiaTa, 

voael  6t  fioi  ttCottqc  ardlo^^ 
ov6'  eve   <^Z,ovTi6oq  lyxoQ 
i)  Tig  ale^trai*  &c. — 167-172 

— which,  he  said  was  never  absent  from  his  mind,  sleep- 
ing or  waking.  I  once  asked  him,  if  he  did  not  regret 
having  devoted  his  life  almost  exclusively  to  the  study 
of  the  classics-  He  replied,  with  enthusiasm,  "No,  doc- 
tor— no,  no !  I  should  be  an  ingrate  if  I  did.  How  can  I 
regret  having  lived  in  constant  converse,  through  their 
works,  with  the  greatest  and  noblest  men  that  ever 
breathed!  I  have  lived  in  Elysium — have  breathed  the 
celestial  air  of  those  hallowed  plains,  while  engaged  in 
the  study  of  the  philosophy  and  poetry  of  Greece  and 
Rome.  Yes,  it  is  a  consolation  even  for  my  bitter  and 
premature  deathbed,  to  think  that  my  mind  will  quit 
this  wretched,  diseased,  unworthy  body,  imbued  with  the 
refinement — redolent  of  the  eternal  freshness  and  beauty 
of  the  most  exquisite  poetry  and  philosophy  the  world 
ever  saw !     With  my  faculties  quickened  and  strength- 

*Ah,  me!  I  groan  beneath  the  pressure  of  innumerable  sor- 
rows; truly  my  substance  is  languishing  away,  nor  can  I  devise 
any  means  of  bettering  my  condition,  or  discover  any  source 
of  consolation. 


56  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

ened,  I  shall  go  confidently,  and  claim  kindred  with  the 
great  ones  of  Eternity.  They  know  I  love  their  works — 
have  consumed  all  the  oil  of  my  life  in  their  study,  and 
they  will  welcome  their  son — their  disciple."     Ill  as  he 

was,  Mr.  uttered  these  sentiments  (as  nearly  as  I 

can  recollect,  in  the  very  words  I  have  given)  with  an 
energy,  and  enthusiasm,  and  an  eloquence  which  I  never 
saw  surpassed.  He  faltered  suddenly,  however,  from  his 
lofty  pitch  of  excitement,  and  complained  bitterly  that 
his  devotion  to  ancient  literature  had  engendered  a  mor- 
bid sensibility,  which  had  rendered  him  totally  unfit  for 
the  ordinary  business  of  life,  or  intermixture  with  so- 
ciety. 

Often  I  found  him  sitting  up  in  bed,  and  reading  his 
favorite  play,  the  Prometheus  Vinctus  of  ^schylus, 
while  his  pale  and  wasted  features  glowed  with  delighted 
enthusiasm.  He  told  me  that,  in  his  estimation,  there 
was  an  air  of  grandeur  and  romance  about  that  play, 
such  as  was  not  equalled  by  any  of  the  productions  of  the 
other  Greek  dramatists ;  and  that  the  opening  dialogue 
was  peculiarly  impressive  and  affecting.  He  had  com- 
mitted to  memory  nearly  three-fourths  of  the  whole  play ! 
I  on  one  occasion  asked  him,  how  it  came  to  pass  that 
a  person  of  his  superior  classical  attainments  had  not 
obtained  some  tolerably  lucrative  engagement  as  an 
usher  or  tutor?  He  answered,  with  rather  a  haughty  air, 
that  he  would  rather  have  broken  stones  on  the  highway. 
"To  hear,"  said  he,  "the  magnificent  language  of  Greece, 
the  harmonious  cadences  of  the  Romans,  mangled  and 
disfigured  by  stupid  lads  and  duller  ushers — oh !  it  would 
have  been  such  a  profanation  as  the  sacred  groves  of  old 
suffered,  when  their  solemn  silence  was  disturbed  by  a 
rude  unhallowed  throng  of  Bacchanalians.  I  should  have 
expired,  doctor !"  I  told  him  I  could  not  help  lamenting 
such  an  absurd  and  morbid  sensitiveness ;  at  which  he 
seemed  exceedingly  piqued.  He  possibly  thought  I 
should  rather  have  admired  than  reprobated  the  lofty 
tone  he  assumed.  I  asked  him  if  the  stations,  of  which 
he  spoke  with  such  supercilious  contempt,  had  not  been 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  57 

joyfully  occupied  by  some  of  the  greatest  scholars  that 
had  ever  lived?  He  replied  simply,  with  a  cold  air,  that 
it  was  his  misfortune,  not  his  fault.  He  told  me,  how- 
ever, that  his  classical  acquirements  had  certainly  been 
capable  of  something  like  a  profitable  employment ;  for 
that,  about  two  months  before  he  had  called  on  me,  he 
had  nearly  come  to  terms  with  a  bookseller,  for  publish- 
ing a  poetical  version  of  the  comedies  of  Aristophanes ; 
that  he  had  nearly  completed  one,  the  ne*eaai,  if  I 
recollect  right,  when  the  great  difficulty  of  the  task,  and 
the  wretched  remuneration  offered,  so  dispirited  him, 
that  he  threw  it  aside  in  disgust.  His  only  means  of  sub- 
sistence had  been  the  sorry  pay  of  an  occasional  reader 
for  the  press,  as  well  as  a  contributor  to  the  columns  of 
a  daily  paper.  He  had  parted  with  almost  the  whole 
of  his  slender  stock  of  books,  his  watch,  and  all  his 
clothes,  except  what  he  wore  when  he  called  on  me.  "Did 
you  never  try  any  of  the  magazines?"  I  inquired;  "for 
they  afford  to  young  men  of  talent  a  fair  livelihood."  He 
said  he  had  indeed  struggled  hard  to  gain  a  footing  in 
one  of  the  popular  periodicals,  but  that  his  communica- 
tions were  invariably  returned  "with  polite  acknowledg- 
ments." One  of  these  notes  I  saw,  and  have  now  in  my 
possession.    It  was  thus  : — 

"Mr.  M begs  to  return  the  enclosed  'Remarks  on 

English  Versions  of  Euripides,'  with  many  thanks  for  the 

writer's  polite  offer  of  it  to  the  E M ;  but  fears 

that,  though  an  able  performance,  it  is  not  exactly  suited 
for  the  readers  of  the  E M • 

"To  A  A." 

A  series  of  similar  disappointments,  and  the  conse- 
quent poverty  and  embarrassment  into  which  he  sank, 
had  gradually  undermined  a  constitution  naturally  feeble ; 
and  he  told  me,  with  much  agitation,  that  had  it  not  been 
for  the  trifling,  but  timely  assistance  of  myself  and  family, 
he  saw  no  means  of  escaping  literal  starvation !  Could  I 
help  sympathizing  deeply  with  him?  Alas!  his  misfor- 
tunes were  very  nearly  paralleled  by  my  own.  While 
listening  to  his  melancholy  details,  I  seemed  living  over 


58  THE  DIARY    OF  A  LATE   PHYSICIAN 

again  the  first  four  wretched  years  of  my  professional 
career. 


I  must  hasten,  however,  to  the  closing  scene.     I  had 

left  word  with  the  nurse,  that  when  Mr.  appeared 

dying,  I  should  be  instantly  summoned.  About  five 
o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the  6th  of  July,  18 — ,  I  received  a 

message  from  Mr. himself,  saying  that  he  wished  to 

breathe  his  last  in  my  presence,  as  the  only  friend  he  had 
on  earth.  Unavoidable  and  pressing  professional  en- 
gagements detained  me  until  half-past  six ;  and  it  was 
seven  o'clock  before  I  reached  his  bedside. 

"Lord,  Lord,  doctor,  poor  Mr. is  dying  sure !"  ex- 
claimed the  woman  of  the  house,  as  she  opened  the  door. 
"Mrs.  Jones  says  he  has  been  picking  and  clawing  the 
bed-clothes  awfully;  so  he  must  be  dying!"*  On  enter- 
ing the  room,  I  found  he  had  dropt  asleep.  The  nurse 
told  me  he  had  been  wandering  a  good  deal  in  his  mind. 
I  asked  what  he  had  talked  about?  "Larning,  doctor," 
she  replied,  "and  a  proud  young  lady."  I  sat  down  by  his 
bedside.  I  saw  the  dews  of  death  were  stealing  rapidly 
over  him.  His  eyes,  which  were  naturally  very  dark  and 
piercing,  were  now  far  sunk  into  their  sockets ;  his  cheeks 
were  hollow,  and  his  hair  matted  with  perspiration  over 
his  damp  and  pallid  forehead.  While  I  was  gazing  si- 
lently on  the  melancholy  spectacle,  and  reflecting  what 
great  but  undisciplined  powers  of  mind  were  about  soon 

to  be  disunited  from  the  body,  Mr. opened  his  eyes, 

and,  seeing  me,  said  in  a  low,  but  clear  and  steady  tone 
of  voice — "Doctor — the  last  act  of  tragedy."  He  gave 
me  his  hand.  It  was  all  he  could  do  to  lift  it  into  mine. 
I  could  not  speak ;  the  tears  were  nearly  gushing  forth.  1 
felt  as  if  I  were  gazing  on  my  dying  son. 

*This  very  prevalent  but  absurd  notion  is  not  confined  to  the 
vulgar;  and  as  I  have,  in  the  course  of  my  practice,  met  with 
hundreds  of  respectable  and  intelligent  people,  who  have  held 
that  a  patient's  "picking  and  clawing  the  bed-clothes"  is  a 
symptom  of  death,  and  who,  consequently,  view  it  with  a  kind 
or   superstitious   horror,   I   cannot   refrain   from   explaining  the 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  59 

"I  have  been  dreaming,  doctor,  since  you  went,''  said 
he,  "and  what  do  you  think  about?  I  thought  I  had 
squared  the  circle,  and  was  to  perish  for  ever  for  my 
discovery." 

"I  hope,  Mr. ,"  I  replied,  in  a  serious  tone,  and  with 

something  of  displeasure  in  my  manner — "I  hope  that,  at 
this  awful  moment,  you  have  more  suitable  and  con- 
solatory thoughts  to  occupy  your  mind  with  than  those?" 
He  sighed.  "The  clergyman  you  were  so  good  as  to  send 
to  me,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  "was  here  this  afternoon. 
He  is  a  good  man,  I  dare  say,  but  weak,  and  has  his 
head  stuffed  with  the  quibbles  of  the  schools.  He 
wanted  to  discuss  the  question  of  free-will  with  a  dying 
man,  doctor !" 

"I  hope  he  did  not  leave  you  without  administering 
the  ordinances  of  religion?"  I  inquired. 

"He  read  me  some  of  the  church  prayers,  which  were 
exquisitely  touching  and  beautiful,  and  the  fifteenth 
chapter  of  Corinthians,  which  is  very  sublime.  He  could 
not  help  giving  me  a  rehearsal  of  what  he  was  shortly  to 
repeat  over  my  grave!"  exclaimed  the  dying  man,  with 
a  melancholy  smile.  I  felt  some  irritation  at  the  light 
tone  of  his  remarks,  but  concealed  it. 

"You    received    the    sacrament,    I    hope,    Mr. ?" 

He  paused  a  few  moments,  and  his  brow  was  clouded. 
"No,  doctor,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  declined  it" 

"Declined  the  sacrament!"  I  exclaimed,  with  surprise. 

"Yes — but  dear  doctor,  I  beg — I  entreat  you  not  to 

philosophy  of  it  in  the  simple  and  satisfactory  words  of  Sir 
Charles  Bell:— 

"It  is  very  common,"  he  says,  "to  see  the  patient  picking  the 
bedclothes,  or  catching  at  the  empty  air.  This  proceeds  from  an 
appearance  of  motes  or  flies  passing  before  the  eyes,  and  is 
occasioned  by  an  affection  of  the  retina,  producing  in  it  a  sen- 
sation similar  to  that  produced  by  the  impression  of  images; 
and  what  is  deficient  in  sensation,  the  imagination  supplies:  for 
although  the  resemblance  betwixt  those  diseased  affections  of 
the  retina,  and  the  sensation  conveyed  to  the  brain  may  be  very 
rernote,  yet,  by  that  slight  resemblance,  the  idea  usually  as- 
sociated with  the  sensation  will  be  excited  in  the  mind." — Bell's 
Anatomy,  vol.  iii,  pp.  57,  58. 

The  secret  lies  in  a  disordered  circulation  of  the  blood,  forc- 
ing the  red  globules  into  the  minute  vessels  of  the  retina. 


60  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

ask  me  about  it  any  further,"  replied  Mr,  gloomily, 

and  lapsed  into  a  fit  of  abstraction  for  some  mo- 
ments. Unnoticed  by  him,  I  dispatched  the  nurse  for 
another  clergyni'an,  an  excellent  and  learned  man,  who 
was  my  intimate  friend.    I  was  gazing  earnestly  on  Mr. 

,  as  he  lay  with  closed  eyes;  and  was  surprised  to 

see  the  tears  trickling  from  them. 

"Mr. ,  you  have  nothing,  I  hope,  on  your  mind,  to 

render  your  last  moments  unhappy?"  I  asked  in  a  gentle 
tone. 

"No — nothing  material,"  he  replied,  with  a  deep  sigh ; 
continuing  with  his  eyes  closed,  "I  was  only  thinking 
what  a  bitter  thing  it  is  to  be  struck  down  so  soon  from 
among  the  bright  throng  of  the  living — to  leave  this  fair, 
this  beautiful  world,  after  so  short  and  sorrowful  a  so- 
journ. Oh,  it  is  hard !"  He  shortly  opened  his  eyes.  His 
agitation  had  apparently  passed  away  and  delirium  was 
hovering  over  and  disarranging  his  thoughts. 

"Doctor,  doctor,  what  a  strange  passage  that  is,"  said 
he  suddenly,  startling  me  with  his  altered  voice,  and  the 
dreamy  thoughtful  expression  of  his  eyes,  "in  the  chorus 
of  the  Medea — 

,Avu  iroTOfiuv  Ie^uv  x^^ovol  nayal 
Kot  diKa  Koi  irdvTa  ttoXiv  aT[,E<^ETaiJ^ 

Is  not  there  something  very  mysterious  and  romantic 
about  these  lines?  I  could  never  exactly  understand 
what  was  meant  by  them."  Finding  I  continued  silent — 
for  I  did  not  wish  to  encourage  his  indulging  in  a  train 
of  thought  so  foreign  to  his  situation — he  kept  murmur- 
ing at  intervals,  metrically, 

avu  iroTOftuv  Ie^uv^ 

in  a  most  melancholy  monotony.  He  then  wandered  on 
from  one  topic  of  classical  literature  to  another,  till  he 
suddenly  stopped  short,  and  turning  to  me,  said,  "Doc- 
tor, I  am  raving  very  absurdly ;  I  feel  I  am  ;  but  I  cannot 
dismiss  from  my  thoughts,  even  though  I  know  I  am  dying, 
the  subjects  about  which  my  mind  has  been  occupied 
nearly  all  my  life  through-     Oh !"  changing  the  subject 

*Eunp.  Med.  411-13. 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  61 

abruptly — "tell  me,  doctor,  do  those  who  die  of  my  dis- 
order generally  continue  in  the  possession  of  their  intel- 
lects to  the  last?"  I  told  him  I  thought  they  generally 
did. 

"Then  I  shall  burn  brightly  to  the  last!  Thank  God! — 
And  yet,"  with  a  shudder,  "it  is  shocking,  too,  to  find 
one's  self  gradually  ceasing  to  exist — Doctor,  I  shall  re- 
cover.— I  am  sure  I  should  if  you  were  to  bleed  me," 
said  he.     His  intellects  were  wandering. 

The  nurse  now  returned,  and,  to  my  vexation,  unac- 
companied by  Dr. ,  who  had  gone  that  morning  into 

the  country.  I  did  not  send  for  any  one  else.  His  frame 
of  mind  was  peculiar,  and  very  unsatisfactory ;  but  I 
thought  it,  on  the  whole,  better  not  to  disturb  or  irritate 
him  by  alluding  to  a  subject  he  evidently  disliked.  I  or- 
dered candles  to  be  brought,  as  it  was  now  nearly 
nine  o'clock.  "Doctor,"  said  the  dying  young  man,  in  a 
feeble  tone,  "I  think  you  will  find  a  copy  of  Lactantius 
lying  on  my  table.  He  has  been  a  great  favorite  with 
me.  May  I  trouble  you  to  read  me  a  passage — the  eighth 
chapter  of  the  seventh  book — on  the  immortality  of  the 
soul?  I  should  like  to  die  thoroughly  convinced  of  that 
noble  truth — if  truth  it  is — and  I  have  often  read  that 
chapter  with  much  satisfaction."  I  went  to  the  table 
and  found  the  book — a  pocket  copy — the  leaves  of  which 
were  ready  turned  down  to  the  very  page  I  wanted.  I 
therefore  read  to  him,  slowly,  and  emphatically,  the 
whole  of  the  eighth  and  ninth  chapters,  beginning  "Nam 
est  igitiir  stimmum  bomim  immortalitas,  ad  quam  capien- 
dam,  et  formati  a  principio,  ef  nati  sunius."  When  I  had 
got  as  far  as  the  allusion  to  the  vacillating  view  of  Cicero, 

Mr.  repeated  with  me,  sighing,  the  words,  "harum 

inquit  sententiarum,  qncs  vera  sit,  Detis  aliquis  viderit." 
— as  an  instance  of  the 

Ruling  passion,  strong  in  death. 

I  may  mention,  though  somewhat  to  my  own  discredit, 
that  he  briskly  corrected  a  false  quantity  which  slipped 
from  me.     "Allow  me,  doctor— 'expetit,'  not  'expetit.'" 


62  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

He  made  no  other  observation,  when  I  had  concluded 
reading  the  chapter  from  Lactantius,  than,  "I  certainly 
wish  I  had  early  formed  fixed  principles  on  religious  sub- 
jects— but  it  is  now  too  late."  He  then  dropped  asleep, 
but  presently  began  murmuring  very  sorrowfully — "Em- 
ma, Emma!  haughty  one!  Not  one  look? — I  am  dying — 
and  you  don't  know  it — nor  care  for  me!  *  *  * 
How  beautiful  she  looked  stepping  from  the  carriage ! 
How  magnificently  dressed !  I  think  she  saw — why  can't 
she  love  me !  She  cannot  love  somebody  else — No — mad- 
ness— no!"  In  this  strain  he  continued  soliloquizing  for 
some  minutes  longer.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever 
heard  anything  of  the  kind  fall  from  him.  At  length  he 
asked,  "I  wonder  if  they  ever  came  to  her  hands?"  as  if 
striving  to  recollect  something.  The  nurse  whispered 
that  she  had  often  heard  him  talk  in  the  night-time  about 
this  lady,  and  that  he  would  go  on  till  he  stopped  in  tears. 
I  discovered,  from  a  scrap  or  two  found  among  his 
papers,  after  his  decease,  that  the  person  he  addressed  as 
Emma,  was  a  young  lady  in  the  higher  circles  of  so- 
ciety, of  considerable  beauty,  whom  he  first  saw  by  ac- 
cident, and  fancied  she  had  a  regard  for  him.  He  had,  in 
turn,  indulged  in  the  most  extravagant  and  hopeless  pas- 
sion for  her.  He  suspected  himself,  that  she  was  wholly 
unconscious  of  being  the  object  of  his  almost  frenzied 
admiration.  When  he  was  asking  "if  something  came  to 
her  hands,"  I  have  no  doubt  he  alluded  to  some  copy  of 
verses  he  had  sent  to  her,  of  which  the  following  frag- 
ments, written  in  pencil,  on  a  blank  leaf  of  his  Aristoph- 
anes, probably  formed  a  part.  There  is  some  merit 
in  them,  but  more  extravagance. 

I  could  go  through  the  world  with  thee, 
To  spend  with  thee  eternity! 
***** 

To  see  thy  blue  and  passionate  eye 
Light  on  another  scornfully, 
But  fix  its  melting  glance  on  me, 
And  blend 

Read  the  poor  heart  that  throbs  for  thee. 
Imprint  all  o'er  with  thy  dear  name — 
Yet  withering  'neath  a  lonely  flame. 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  63 

That  warms  thee  not,  yet  me  consumes! 

***** 

Ay,  I  would  have  thee  all  my  own, 
Thy  love,  thy  lite,  mine,  mine  alone; 
See  nothing  in  the  world  but  me, 
Since  nought  I  know,  or  love,  but  theej 

The  eyes  that  on  a  thousand  fall, 
I  would  collect  their  glances  all. 
And  fling  their  lustre  on  my  soul, 
Till  it  imbibed,  absorb'd  the  whole. 

These  are  followed  by  several  more  lines;  but  the 
above  will  suffice.  This  insane  attachment  was  exactly 
what  I  might  have  expected  from  one  of  his  ardent  and 
enthusiastic  temperament.  To  return,  however,  once 
more.  Towards  eleven  o'clock  he  began  to  fail  rapidly. 
I  had  my  fingers  on  his  pulse,  which  beat  very  feebly,  al- 
most imperceptibly.  He  opened  his  eyes  slowly,  and 
gazed  upwards  with  a  vacant  air. 

"Why  are  you  taking  the  candles  away,  nurse?"  he  in- 
quired faintly.  They  had  not  been  touched.  His  cold 
fingers  gently  compressed  my  hand — they  were  stiffen- 
ing with  death.  "Don't,  don't  put  the  candles  out,  doc- 
tor," he  commenced  again,  looking  at  me  with  an  eye  on 
which  the  thick  mists  and  shadows  of  the  grave  were 
s^-ttling  fast — they  were  filmy  and  glazed. 

"Don't  blow  them  out — don't — don't!"  he  again  ex- 
claimed, almost  inaudibly. 

"No,  we  will  not!   My  dear  Mr. ,  both  candles  are 

burning  brightly  beside  you  on  the  table,"  I  replied,  trem- 
ulously— for  I  saw  the  senses  were  forgetting  their 
functions — that  life  and  consciousness  were  fast  retiring! 

"Well,"  he  murmured  almost  inarticulately,  "I  am  now 
quite  in  darkness!  Oh,  there  is  something  at  my  heart — 
cold,  cold !  Doctor,  keep  them  ofif !  Why — O  death  !" — 
he  ceased.  He  had  spoken  his  last  on  earth.  The  inter- 
vals of  respiration  became  gradually  longer  and  longer; 
and  the  precise  moment  when  he  ceased  to  breathe  at  all 
could  not  be  ascertained.  Yes  ;  it  was  all  over.  Poor  Mr. 
was  dead.    I  shall  never  forget  him. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  HOUSE. 

O,  DEAR  doctor,  be  so  good  as  to  drop  in  at 

Place,  in  the  course  of  the  morning,  by  accident 

— for  I  want  you  to  see  Mr. .     He  has,  I 

verily  believe,  bid  adieu  to  his  senses,  for  he  is 
conducting  himself  very  strangely.  To  tell  you  the  truth, 
he  is  resolved  on  going  dow^n  to  the  House  this  evening, 

for  the  purpose  of  speaking  on  the Bill,  and  will,  I  fear, 

act  so  absurdly  as  to  make  himself  the  laughing-stock 
of  the  whole  country — at  least  I  suspect  as  much,  from 
what  I  have  heard  of  his  preparations.  Ask  to  be  shown 
up  at  once  to  Mr. when  you  arrive,  and  gradually  di- 
rect the  conversation  to  politics — when  you  will  soon  see 
what  is  the  matter.  But  mind,  doctor,  not  a  word  of 
this  note !  Your  visit  will  be  quite  accidental,  you  know. 
Believe  me,  my  dear  doctor,  yours,  etc.,  etc." 

Such  was  the  note  put  into  my  hands  by  a  servant,  as 
my  carriage  was  driving  off  on  my  first  morning  round.  I 

knew  Mrs. ,  the  fair  writer  of  it,  very  intimately — as, 

indeed,  thefamiliar  and  confidential  strain  of  her  note  will 
sufifice  to  show.  She  was  a  very  amiable  and  clever  wo- 
man, and  would  not  have  complained,  I  was  sure,  without 
reason.  Wishing,  therefore,  to  oblige  her,  by  a  prompt  at- 
tention to  her  request,  and  in  the  full  expectation,  from 
what  I  knew  of  that  worthy  member's  eccentricities,  of 
encountering  some  singular  scene,  I  directed  the  horse's 

heads  to  be  turned  towards  Place.     I  reached  the 

house  about  twelve  o'clock,  and  went  up-stairs  at  once 

to  the  drawing-room,  where  I  understood  Mr.  had 

taken  up  quarters  for  the  day.  The  servant  opened  the 
door  and  announced  me. 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  65 

"Oh !  show  Dr. in."    I  entered.    The  object  of  my 

visit,  I  may  say,  was  the  very  beau-ideal  of  a  county 
member;  somewhat  incHned  to  corpulency,  with  a  fine, 
fresh,  rubicund,  good-natured  face,  and  that  bluff  old 
English  frankness  of  manner,  which  flings  you  back  into 
the  age  of  Sir  Roger  de  Coverly.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
^ong,  grey,  woolen  morning-gown ;  and  with  his  hands 
crammed  into  the  hind  pockets,  was  pacing  rapidly  to 
and  fro  from  one  end  of  the  spacious  room  to  the  other. 
At  one  extremity  was  a  table,  on  which  lay  a  sheet  of 
foolscap,  closely  written,  and  crumpled  as  if  with  con- 
stant handling,  his  gold  repeater,  and  a  half-emptied  de- 
canter of  sherry,  with  a  wine-glass.    A  glance  at  all  these 

paraphernalia  convinced  me  of  the  nature  of  Mr.  's 

occupation;  he  was  committing  his  speech  to  memory! 

"How  d'ye  do,  how  d'ye  do,  doctor?"  he  exclaimed,  in 
a  hearty  but  hurried  tone;  "you  must  not  keep  me  long; 
busy — very  busy  indeed,  doctor."  I  had  looked  in  by  ac- 
cident, I  told  him,  and  did  not  intend  to  detain  him  an 
instant.  I  remarked  that  I  supposed  he  was  busy  pre- 
paring for  the  House. 

"Ah,  right,  doctor — right !     Ay,  by  !  and  a  grand 

hit  it  will  be,  too ! — I  shall  peg  it  into  them  to-night,  doc- 
tor !  I'll  let  them  know  what  an  English  county  member 
is !   I'll  make  the  House  too  hot  to  hold  them !"  said  Mr. 

,  walking  to  and  fro,  at  an  accelerated  pace.    He  was 

evidently  boiling  over  with  excitement. 

"You  are  going  to  speak  to-night,  then,  on  the  great 

question,  I  suppose?"  said  I,  hardly  able  to  repress 

a  smile. 

"Speak,  doctor?  I'll  burst  on  them  with  such  a  view- 
halloo  as  shall  startle  the  whole  pack !   I'll  show  my  Lord 

what  kind  of  stuff  I'm  made  of — I  will,  by !    He 

was  pleased  to  tell  the  House,  the  other  evening — curse 

his   impudence ! — that   the   two    members    for   shire 

were  a  mere  couple  of  dumb-bells — he  did,  by !    But 

I'll  show  him  whether  or  not  I,  for  one  of  them,  am  to 
be  jeered  and  flammed  with  impunity!  Ha!  doctor,  what 
d'ye  think  of  this?"  said  he,  hurrying  to  the  table,  and 


66  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

taking  up  the  manuscript  I  have  mentioned.  He  was  go- 
ing to  read  it  to  me,  but  suddenly  stopped  short  and  laid 
it  down  again  on  the  table,  exclaiming,  "Nay,  I  must 
know  it  off  by  this  time — so  listen !  have  at  ye,  doctor !" 
After  a  pompous  "hem  !  hem  !"  he  commenced,  and  with 
infinite  energy  and  boisterousness  of  manner  recited 
the  whole  oration.  It  was  certainly  a  wonderful — a 
matchless  performance — parceled  out  with  a  rigid  ad- 
herence to  the  rules  of  ancient  rhetoric.  As  he  pro- 
ceeded, he  recited  such  astounding  absurdities — such  pre- 
posterous Bombastes-Furioso  declamations — as,  had  they 
been  uttered  in  the  House,  would  assuredly  have  pro- 
cured the  triumphant  speaker  six  or  seven  rounds  of  con- 
vulsive laughter!     Had  I  not  known  well  the  simplicity 

and    sincerity — the    perfect    bonhomie — of    Mr.    ,    I 

should  have  supposed  he  was  hoaxing  me ;  but  I  as- 
suredly suspected  he  was  himself  the  hoaxed  party — the 
joking-post  of  some  witty  wag,  who  had  determined  to 
afford  the  House  a  night's  sport  at  poor  Mr.  's  ex- 
pense !  Indeed,  I  never  in  my  life  listened  to  such  piti- 
ful, puerile — such  almost  idiotic  galimatias,  I  felt  cer- 
tain it  could  never  have  been  the  composition  of  fox- 
hunting Mr.  !     There  was  a  hackneyed  quotation 

from  Horace — from  the  Septuagint  (!),  and  from  Locke; 
and  then  a  scampering  through  the  whole  flowery  realms 
of  rhetorical  ornament — and  a  glancing  at  every  topic  of 
foreign  or  domestic  policy  that  could  conceivably  attract 
the  attention  of  the  most  erratic  fancy.  In  short,  there 
surely  never  before  was  such  a  speech  composed  since 
the  world  began !  And  this  was  the  sort  of  thing  that  poor 

Mr.  actually  intended  to  deliver  that   memorable 

evening  in  the  House  of  Commons!  As  for  myself,  I 
could  not  control  my  risible  faculties;  but  accompanied 

the  peroration  with  a  perfect  shout  of  laughter!    Mr, 

laid  down  the  paper  (which  he  had  twisted  into  a  sort  of 
scroll)  in  an  ecstacy,  and  joined  me  in  full  chorus,  slap- 
ping me  on  the  shoulder,  and  exclaiming — "Ah!  d it! 

doctor,  I  knew  you  would  like  it!  It's  just  the  thing — 
isn't  it?  There-will  be  no  standing  me  at  the  next  election 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PFIYSICIAN  67 

for shire,  if  I  can  only  deliver  all  this  in  the  House 

to-night!  Old  Turnpenny,  that's  going  to  start  against 
me,  backed  by  the  manufacturing  interest,  won't  come 
up — and  you  see  if  he  does ! — Curse  it !  I  thought  it  was 
in  me,  and  would  come  out  some  of  these  days.     They 

shall  have  it  all  to-night — they  shall,  by !     Only  be 

on  the  lookout  for  the  morning  papers,  doctor — that's 
all !"  and  he  set  off,  walking  rapidly,  with  long  strides, 
from  one  end  of  the  room  to  the  other.  I  began  to  be 
apprehensive  that  there  was  too  much  ground  for  Mrs. 

's  suspicions,  that  he  had  literally  "taken  leave  of  his 

senses."  Recollecting,  at  length,  the  object  of  my  visit, 
which  the  amusing  exhibition  I  have  been  attempting  to 
describe  had  almost  driven  from  my  memory,  I  endeav- 
ored to  think,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  of  some 
scheme  for  diverting  him  from  his  purpose,  and  prevent- 
ing the  lamentable  exposure  he  was  preparing  for  him- 
self. I  could  think  of  nothing  else  than  attacking  him 
on  the  sore  point — one  on  which  he  had  been  hipped  for 
years,  and  not  without  reason — a  hereditary  tendency  to 
apoplexy. 

"But,  my  dear  sir,"  said  I,  "this  excitement  will  de- 
stroy you — you  will  bring  on  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  if  you  go 
on  for  an  hour  longer  in  this  way — you  will  indeed !"  He 
stood  still,  changed  color  a  little,  and  stammered, 
"What!  eh,  d it! — apoplexy! — you  don't  say  so,  doc- 
tor? Hem!  how  is  my  pulse?"  extending  his  wrist.  I 
felt  it — looked  at  my  watch,  and  shook  my  head. 

"Eh — what,  doctor!  Newmarket,  eh?"  said  he  with  an 
alarmed  air — meaning  to  ask  me  whether  his  pulse  was 
beating  rapidly, 

"It  is  indeed,  Mr. .  It  beats  upwards  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifteen  a  minute,"  I  replied,  still  keeping  my 
fingers  at  his  wrist,  and  my  eyes  riveted  on  my  watch — 
for  I  dared  not  trust  myself  with  looking  in  his  counte- 
nance. He  started  from  me  without  uttering  a  syllable; 
hurried  to  the  table,  poured  out  a  glass  of  wine,  and 
gulped  it  down  instantly.  I  suppose  he  caught  an  un- 
fortunate smile  or  smirk  on  my  face,  for  he  came  up 


68  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

to  me,  and  in  a  coaxing  but  disturbed  manner,  said — 
"Now,  come,  come,  doctor — doctor,  no  humbug!     I  feel 

well  enough  all  over!  D it,  I  will  speak  in  the  House 

to-night,  come  what  may,  that's  flat!  Why,  there'll  be  a 
general  election  in  a  few  months,  and  it's  of  consequence 
for  me  to  do  something — to  make  a  figure  in  the  House. 
Besides,  it  is  a  great  constitutional" 

"Well,  well,  Mr.  ,  undoubtedly  you  must  please 

yourself,"  said  I  seriously ;  "but  if  a  fit  should — you'll  re- 
member I  did  my  duty,  and  warned  you  how  to  avert  it !" 

"Hem,  ahem !"  he  ejaculated,  with  a  somewhat  puz- 
zled air.  I  thought  I  had  succeeded  in  shaking  his  pur- 
pose. I  was,  however,  too  sanguine  in  my  expectations, 
"I  must  bid  you  good-morning,  doctor,"  said  he  abruptly. 
"I  must  speak !  I  will  try  it  to-night,  at  all  events ; — but 

I'll  be  calm 1  will!     And  if  I  should  die — but — devil 

take  it — that's  impossible,  you  know !  But  if  I  should — 
why,  it  will  be  a  martyr's  death  ;  I  shall  die  a  patriot — ha, 
ha,  ha!  Good-morning,  doctor!"  He  led  me  to  the  door, 
laughing  as  he  went,  but  not  so  heartily  or  boisterously 
as  formerly.  I  was  hurrying  down-stairs  when  Mr. re- 
opened the  drawing-room  door,  and  called  out,  "Doctor, 
doctor,  just  be  so  good  as  to  look  in  on  my  good  lady  be- 
fore you  go.  She's  somewhere  about  the  house — in  her 
boudoir,  I  dare  say.  She's  not  quite  well  this  morning — a 
fit  of  the  vapors — hem!  You  understand  me,  doctor?" 
putting  his  finger  to  the  side  of  his  nose  with  a  wise  air. 
I  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  reciprocal  anxiety  for  each 
other's  health  simultaneously  manifested  by  this  worthy 
couple. 

"Well,  doctor,  am  I  not  right?"  exclaimed  Mrs. in 

a  low  tone,  opening  the  dining-room  door,  and  beckoning 
me  in. 

"Yes,  indeed,  madam.  My  interview  was  little  else 
than  a  running  commentary  on  your  note  to  me." 

"How  did  you  find  him  engaged,  Doctor? — learning  his 
speech,  as  he  calls  it — eh?"  inquired  the  lady,  with  a 
chagrined  air,  which  was  heightened  when  I  recounted 
what  had  passed  up-stairs. 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  69 

"Oh,  absurd !  monstrous !  Doctor,  I  am  ready  to  ex- 
pire with  vexation  to  see  Mr. acting  so  fooHshly! — 

'Tis  all  owing  to  that  odious  Dr. ,  our  village  rector, 

who  is  up  in  town  now,  and  an  immense  crony  of  Mr. 
's.  I  suspected  there  was  something  brewing  be- 
tween them ;  for  they  have  been  laying  their  wise  heads 
together  for  a  week  past.  Did  not  he  repeat  the  speech 
to  you,  doctor? — the  whole  of  it?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  madam,  he  did,"  I  replied,  smiling  at  the 
recollection. 

"Ah — hideous  rant  it  was,  I  dare  say! — I'll  tell  you  a 
secret,  doctor.     I  know  it  was  every  word  composed  by 

that  abominable  old  addlehead  Dr. ,  a  doodle  that  he 

is ! — (I  wonder  what  brought  him  up  from  his  parish  !) — 
And  it  is  he  that  has  inflamed  Mr. 's  fancy  with  mak- 
ing *a  great  hit'  in  the  House,  as  they  call  it.  That  pre- 
cious piece  of  stuff  which  they  call  a  speech,  poor  Mr. 

has  been  learning  for  this  week  past ;  and  has  several 
times  woke  me  in  the  night  with  ranting  snatches  of  it." 

I  begged  Mrs. not  to  take  it  so  seriously. 

"Now,  tell  me  candidly,  Dr.  ,  did  you  ever  hear 

such  horrible  nonsense  in  your  life?  It  is  all  that  coun- 
try parson's  trash,  collected  by  bits  out  of  his  old  stupid 
sermons !  I'm  sure  our  name  will  run  the  gauntlet  of  all 
the  papers  in  England  for  a  fortnight  to  come!" 

I  said  I  was  sorry  to  be  compelled  to  acquiesce  in  the 
truth  of  what  she  was  saying. 

"Really,"  she  continued,  pressing  her  hand  to  her  fore- 
head, "I  feel  quite  poorly  myself  with  agitation  at  the 
thought  of  to-night's  farce.  Did  you  attempt  to  dissuade 
him?  You  might  have  frightened  him  with  a  hint  or  two 
about  his  tendency  to  apoplexy,  you  know." 

"I  did  my  utmost,  madam,  I  assure  you;  and 'certainly 
startled  him  not  a  little.  But,  alas!  he  rallied,  and  good- 
humoredly  sent  me  from  the  room,  telling  me,  that  if 
the  effort  of  speaking  killed  him,  he  should  share  the 
fate  of  Lord  Chatham,  or  something  of  that  sort." 

"Preposterous!"  exclaimed  Mrs. ,  almost  shedding 

tears  with  vexation.     "But  entre  nous,  doctor,  could  you 


70  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

not  think  of  anything — hem! — something  in  the  medical 
•way — to  prevent  his  going  to  the  House  to-night  ? — A — a 
sleeping  draught — eh,  doctor?" 

"Really,  my  dear  madam,"  said  I  seriously,  "I  should 
not  feel  justified  in  going  so  far  as  that." 

"Oh,  dear,  dear  doctor,  what  possible  harm  can  there 
be  in  it?  Do  consent  to  my  wishes  for  once,  and  I  shall 
be  eternally  obliged  to  you.  Do  order  a  simple  sleeping- 
draught — strong  enough  to  keep  him  in  bed  till  five  or 
six  o'clock  in  the  morning — and  I  will  myself  slip  it  into 
his  wine  at  dinner." 

In  short,  there  was  no  resisting  the  importunities  and 

distress  of  so  fine  a  woman  as  Mrs.  ;  so  I  ordered 

about  five-and-thirty  drops  of  laudanum,  in  a  little  syrup 
and  water.    But,  alas !  this  scheme  was  frustrated  by  Mr. 

's,  two  hours  afterwards,  unexpectedly  ordering  the 

carriage   (while  Mrs.  was  herself  gone  to  procure 

his  quietus),  and  leaving  word  he  should  dine  with  some 
members  that  evening  at  Brookes'.    After  all,  however,  a 

lucky  accident  accomplished  Mrs. 's  wishes,  though  it 

deprived  her  husband  of  that  opportunity  of  seizing  the 
laurels  of  parliamentary  eloquence  ;  for  the  ministry,  find- 
ing the  measure,  against  which  Mr. had  intended  to 

level  his  oration,  to  be  extremely  unpopular,  and  antici- 
pating that  they  should  be  dead  beat,  wisely  postponed 
it  sine  die. 


CHAPTER  V. 


INTRIGUING  AND  MADNESS. 

HEN  I  have  seen  a  beautiful  and  popular  ac- 
tress, I  have  often  thought  how  many  young 
playgoers  these  women  must  intoxicate — how 
many  even  sensible,  and  otherwise  sober 
heads,  they  must  turn  upside  down !  Some  years  ago,  a 
case  came  under  my  care,  which  showed  fully  the  just- 
ness of  this  reflection ;  and  I  now  relate  it,  as  I  consider 
it  pregnant  both  with  interest  and  instruction.  It  will 
show  how  the  energies  of  even  a  powerful  and  well-in- 
formed mind  may  be  prostrated  by  the  idulgence  of  un- 
bridled passions. 

Late  one  evening  in  November,  I  was  summoned  in 
haste  to  visit  a  gentleman  who  was  staying  at  one  of  the 
hotels  in  Covent  Garden,  and  informed  in  a  note  that  he 
had  manifested  symptoms  of  insanity.     As  there  is  no 

time  to  be  lost  in  such  cases,  I  hurried  to  the Hotel, 

which  I  reached  about  nine  o'clock.  The  proprietor 
gave  me  some  preliminary  information  about  the  pa- 
tient to  whom  I  was  summoned,  which,  with  what  I  sub- 
sequently gleaned  from  the  party  himself  and  other 
quarters,  I  shall  present  connectedly  to  the  reader,  be- 
fore introducing  him  into  the  sick  man's  chamber. 

Mr.  Warningham — for  that  name  may  serve  to  indi- 
cate him  through  this  narrative — was  a  young  man  of 

considerable  fortune,  some  family,  and  a  member  of 

College,  Cambridge.  His  person  and  manners  were  gen- 
tlemanly; and  his  countenance,  without  possessing  any 
claims  to  the  character  of  handsome,  faithfully  indicated 
a  powerful  and  cultivated  mind.  He  had  mingled  large- 
ly in  college  gaieties  and  dissipations,  but  knew  little  or 


73  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

nothing  of  what  is  called  "town  life" ;  which  may,  in  a 
great  measure,  account  for  much  of  the  simplicity  and 
extravagance  of  the  conduct  I  am  about  to  relate.  Hav- 
ing, from  his  youth  upwards,  been  accustomed  to  the 
instant  gratification  of  almost  every  wish  he  could  form, 
the  slightest  obstacle  in  his  way  was  sufficient  to  irritate 
him  almost  to  frenzy.  His  temperament  was  very  ar- 
dent— his  imagination  lively  and  active.  In  short,  he 
passed  everywhere  for  what  he  really  was — a  very  clever 
man — extensively  read  in  elegant  literature,  and  par- 
ticularly intimate  with  the  dramatic  writers.  About  a 
fortnight  before  the  day  on  which  I  was  summoned  to 
him,  he  had  come  up  from  College  to  visit  a  young  lady 
whom  he  was  addressing;  but  finding  her  unexpectedl}'' 
gone  to  Paris,  he  resolved  to  continue  in  London  the 
whole  time  he  had  proposed  to  himself,  and  enjoy  all  the 
amusements  about  town,  particularly  the  theatres.     The 

evening  of  the  day  on  which  he  arrived  at  the Hotel 

beheld  him  at  Drury  Lane,  witnessing  a  new,  and,  as  the 
event  proved,  a  very  popular  tragedy.    In  the  afterpiece, 

Miss  was  a  prominent  performer;  and  her  beaut}'- 

of  person — her  "maddening  eyes,"  as  Mr.  Warningham 
often  called  them — added  to  her  fascinating  naivete  of 
manner,  and  the  interesting  character  she  sustained  that 
evening — at  once  laid  prostrate  poor  Mr.  Warningham 
among  the  throng  of  worshippers  at  the  feet  of  this 
"Diana  of  the  Ephesians." 

As  he  found  she  played  again  the  next  evening,  he 
took  care  to  engage  the  stage-box;  and  fancied  he  had 
succeeded  in  attracting  her  attention.  He  thought  her 
lustrous  eyes  fell  on  him  several  times  during  the  even- 
ing, and  that  they  were  instantly  withdrawn,  with  an  air 
of  conscious  confusion  and  embarrassment,  from  the  in- 
tense and  passionate  gaze  which  they  encountered.  This 
was  sufficient  to  fire  the  train  of  Mr.  Warningham's  sus- 
ceptible feelings ;  and  his  whole  heart  was  in  a  blaze  in- 
stantly.   Miss sang  that  evening  one  of  her  favorite 

songs — an  exquisitely  pensive  and  beautiful  air ;  and  Mr. 
Warningham,  almost  frantic  with  excitement,  applauded 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  73 

with  such  obstreperous  vehemence,  and  continued  shout- 
ing "encore — encore" — so  long  after  the  general  calls  of 
the  house  had  ceased,  as  to  attract  all  eyes  for  an  instant 

to  his  box.    Miss could  not,  of  course,  fail  to  observe 

his  conduct;  and  presently  herself  looked  up  with  what 
he  considered  a  gratified  air.  Quivering  with  excite- 
ment and  nervous  irritability,  Mr.  Warningham  could 
scarcely  sit  out  the  rest  of  the  piece ;  and  the  moment  the 
curtain  fell,  he  hurried  round  to  the  stage-door,  deter- 
mined to  wait  and  see  her  leave,  for  the  purpose,  if  pos- 
sible, of  speaking  to  her.  He  presently  saw  her  approach 
the  door,  closely  muffled,  veiled,  and  bonneted^  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  a  man  of  military  appearance,  who  handed  her 
into  a  very  gay  chariot.    He  perceived  at  once  that  it  was 

the  well-known  Captain  .     Will  it  be  believed  that 

this  enthusiastic  young  man  actually  jumped  up  be- 
hind the  carriage  which  contained  the  object  of  his  idola- 
trous homage  and  did  not  alight  till  it  drew  up  opposite  a 
large  house  in  the  western  suburbs ;  and  that  this  absurd 
feat,  moreover,  was  performed  amid  an  incessant  shower 
of  small  searching  rain? 

He  was  informed  by  the  footman,  whom  he  had  bribed 

with  five  shillings,  that  Miss  's  own  house  was  in 

another  part  of  the  town,  and  that  her  stay  at  Captain 

's  was  only  for  a  day  or  two.     He  returned  to  his 

hotel  in  a  state  of  tumultuous  excitement,  which  can  be 
better  conceived  than  described.  As  may  be  supposed, 
he  slept  little  that  night;  and  the  first  thing  he  did 
in  the  morning  was  to  despatch  his  groom,  with  orders 
to  establish  himself  in  some  public-house  which   could 

command  a  view  of  Miss  's  residence,  and  return 

to  Covent  Garden  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  her  or  her  maid 
enter.    It  was  not  till  seven  o'clock  that  he  brought  word 

to  his  master  that  no  one  had  entered  but  Miss  's 

maid.     The  papers  informed  him  that  Miss  played 

again  that  evening;  and  though  he  could  not  but  be 
aware  of  the  sort  of  intimacy  which  subsisted  between 

Miss and  the  Captain,  his  enthusiastic  passion  only 

increased  with  increasing  obstacles.     Though  seriously 


74  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

unwell  with  a  determination  of  blood  to  the  head,  in- 
duced by  the  perpetual  excitement  of  his  feelings,  and 
a  severe  cold  caught  through  exposure  to  the  rain  on  the 
preceding  evening — he  was  dressing  for  the  play,  when, 
to  his  infinite  mortification,  his  friendly  medical  attend- 
ant, happening  to  step  in,  positively  forbade  his  leav- 
ing the  room,  and  consigned  him  to  bed  and  physic,  in- 
stead of  the  maddening  scenes  of  the  theatre.  The  next 
morning  he  felt  relieved  from  the  more  urgent  symptoms ; 
and  his  servant  having  brought  him  word  that  he  had  at 

last  watched  Miss enter  her  house,  unaccompanied, 

except  by  her  maid,  Mr.  Warningham  despatched  him 
with  a  copy  of  passionate  verses,  enclosed  in  a  blank  en- 
velope. He  trusted  that  some  adroit  allusions  in  them 
might  possibly  give  her  a  clue  to  the  discovery  of  the 
writer — especially  if  he  could  contrive  to  be  seen  by  her 
that  evening  in  the  same  box  he  had  occupied  formerly ; 
for  to  the  play  he  was  resolved  to  go,  in  defiance  of  the 
threats  of  his  medical  attendant.  To  his  vexation  he 
found  the  box  in  question  pre-engaged  for  a  family  party ; 
and — will  it  be  credited? — he  actually  entertained  the 
idea  of  discovering  who  they  were,  for  the  purpose  of 
prevailing  on  them  to  vacate  in  his  favor!  Finding  that, 
however,  of  course,  out  of  the  question,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  content  himself  with  the  corresponding  box, 
opposite  where  he  was  duly  ensconced  the  moment  the 
doors  were  opened. 

Miss appeared  that  evening  in  only  one  piece,  but 

in  the  course  of  it,  she  had  to  sing  some  of  her  most  ad- 
mired songs.  The  character  she  played,  also,  was  a 
favorite  both  with  herself  and  the  public.  Her  dress 
was  exquisitely  tasteful  and  picturesque,  and  calculated 
to  set  off  her  figure  to  the  utmost  advantage.  When,  at 
a  particular  crisis  of  the  play,  Mr.  Warningham,  by  the 
softened  lustre  of  the  lowered  foot-lights,  beheld   Miss 

emerging  from  a  romantic  glen  with  a  cloak  thrown 

over  her  shoulders,  her  head  covered  with  a  velvet  cap, 
over  which  drooped,  in  snowy  pendency,  an  ostrich 
feather,  while  her  hair  strayed  from  beneath  the  cincture 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  .  75 

of  her  cap  in  loose  negligent  curls,  down  her  face  and 
beautiful  cheeks ;  when  he  saw  the  timid  and  alarmed 
air  which  her  part  required  her  to  assume,  and  the  sweet 
and  sad  expression  of  her  eyes,  while  she  stole  about,  as 
if  avoiding  a  pursuer ;  when,  at  length,  as  the  raised  foot- 
lights were  restored  to  their  former  glare,  she  let  fall  the 
cloak  which  had  enveloped  her,  and,  like  a  metamor- 
phosed chrysalis,  burst  in  beauty  on  the  applauding 
house,  habited  in  a  costume  which,  without  being  posi- 
tively indelicate,  was  calculated  to  excite  the  most  volup- 
tuous thoughts ;  when,  I  say,  poor  Mr.  Warningham  saw 
all  this,  he  was  almost  overpowered,  and  leaned  back  in 
his  box  breathless  with  agitation. 

A  little  before  Miss quitted  the  stage  for  the  last 

time  that  evening,  the  order  of  the  play  required  that 
she  should  stand  for  some  minutes  on  that  part  of  the 
stage  next  to  Mr.  Warningham's  box.  While  she  was 
standing  in  a  pensive  attitude,  with  her  face  turned  full 
towards  Mr.  Warningham,  he  whispered,  in  a  quivering 
and  undertone,  "Oh,  beautiful,  beautiful  creature !"    Miss 

heard  him,  looked  at  him  with  a  little  surprise;  her 

features  relaxed  into  a  smile,  and,  with  a  gentle  shake 
of  the  head,  as  if  hinting  that  he  should  not  endeavor  to 
distract  her  attention,  she  moved  away  to  proceed  with 
her  part.  Mr.  Warningham  trembled  violently ;  he  fan- 
cied she  encouraged  his  attentions,  and — Heaven  knows 
how — had  recognized  in  him  the  writer  of  the  verses 
she  had  received.  When  the  play  was  over,  he  hurried, 
as  on  a  former  occasion,  to  the  stage-door,  where  he  min- 
gled with  the  inquisitive  little  throng  usually  to  be  found 
there,  and  waited  till  she  made  her  appearance,  enveloped, 
as  before,  in  a  large  shawl,  but  followed  only  by  a  maid- 
servant, carrying  a  bandbox.  They  stepped  into  a  hack- 
ney-coach, and,  though  Mr.  Warningham  had  gone  there 
for  the  express  purpose  of  speaking  to  her,  his  knees 
knocked  together,  and  he  felt  so  sick  with  agitation,  that 
he  did  not  even  attempt  to  hand  her  into  the  coach.  He 
jumped  into  the  one  which  drew  up  next,  and  ordered  the 
coachman  to  follow  the  preceding  one  wherever  it  went. 


76  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN 

When  it  approached  the  street  where  he  knew  she  re- 
sided, he  ordered  it  to  stop,  got  out,  and  hurried  on  foot 
towards  the  house,  which  he  reached  just  as  she  was 
alighting.  He  offered  her  his  arm.  She  looked  at  him 
with  astonishment,  and  something  like  apprehension.  At 
length  she  appeared  to  recognize  in  him  the  person  who 
had  attracted  her  attention  by  whispering  when  at  the 
theatre,  and  seemed,  he  thought,  a  little  discomposed. 
She  declined  his  proffered  assistance — said  her  maid 
was  with  her — and  was  going  to  knock  at  the  door, 
when  Mr.Warningham  stammered  faintly,  "Dear  madam, 
do  allow  me  the  honor  of  calling  in  the  morning,  and  in- 
quiring how  you  are  after  the  great  exertions  at  the 
theatre  this  evening!"  She  replied  in  a  cold  and  dis- 
couraging manner:  could  not  conceive  to  what  she  was 
indebted  for  the  honor  of  his  particular  attentions,  and 
interest  in  her  welfare,  so  suddenly  felt  by  an  utter 
stranger — unusual — singular — improper — unpleasant,  &c. 
She  said  that,  as  for  his  calling  in  the  morning,  if  he  felt 
so  inclined,  she,  of  course,  could  not  prevent  him ;  but 
if  he  expected  to  see  her  when  he  called  he  would  find 
himself  "perfectly  mistaken."  The  door  that  moment 
was  opened  and  closed  upon  her,  as  she  made  him  a  cold 
bow,  leaving  Mr.  Warningham,  what  with  chagrin  and 
excessive  passion  for  her,  almost  distracted.  He  seriously 
assured  me  that  he  walked  to  and  fro  before  her  door 
till  nearly  six  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  that  he  repeatedly 
ascended  the  steps,  and  endeavored  as  nearly  as  he 
could  recollect,  to  stand  on  the  very  spot  she  had  occu- 
pied while  speaking  to  him,  and  would  remain  gazing  at 
what  he  fancied  was  the  window  of  her  bed-room,  for  ten 
minutes  together;  and  all  this  extravagance,  to  boot,  was 
perpetrated  amidst  an  incessant  fall  of  snow, and  at  atime 
— Heaven  save  the  mark! — when  he  was  an  accepted 

suitor  of  Miss ,  the  young  lady  whom  he  had  come  to 

town  for  the  express  purpose  of  marrying.  I  several  times 
asked  hijm  how  it  was  that  he  could  bring  himself  to 
consider  such  conduct  consistent  with  honor  or  delicacy, 
or  feel  a  spark  of  real  attachment  for  the  lady  to  whom 


THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  77 

he  was  engaged,  if  it  were  not  sufficient  to  steel  his  heart 
and  close  his  eyes  against  the  charms  of  any  other 
woman  in  the  world?  His  only  reply  was,  that  he  "really 
could  not  help  it" — he  felt  "rather  the  patient  than  the 

agent,"  Miss took  his  heart,  he  said,  by  storm,  and 

forcibly  ejected,  for  a  while,  his  love  for  any  other  woman 
breathing! 

To  return,  however :  About  half-past  six,  he  jumped 
into  a  hackney  coach  which  happened  to  be  passing 
through  the  street,  drove  home  to  the  hotel  in  Covent 
Garden,  and  threw  himself  on  the  bed,  in  a  state  of  utter 
exhaustion,  both  of  mind  and  body.  He  slept  on  heavily 
till  twelve  o'clock  at  noon,  when  he  awoke  seriously  in- 
disposed. For  the  first  few  moments  he  could  not  dis- 
possess himself  of  the  idea  that  Miss  was  standing 

by  his  bedside,  in  the  dress  she  wore  the  preceding  even- 
ing, and  smiled  encouragingly  on  him-  So  strong  was  the 
delusion,  that  he  actually  addressed  several  sentences 
to  her!  About  three  o'clock  he  drove  out,  and  called  on 
one  of  his  gay  friends,  who  was  perfectly  au  fait  at 
matters  of  this  sort,  and  resolved  to  make  him  his  confi- 
dant in  the  affair.  Under  the  advice  of  this  mentor,  Mr. 
Warningham  purchased  a  very  beautiful  emerald  ring, 

which  he  sent  off  instantly  to  Miss  ,  with  a  polite 

note,  saying  it  was  some  slight  acknowledgment  of  the 
delight  with  which  he  witnessed  her  exquisite  acting,  etc., 
etc.,  etc.  This,  his  friend  assured  him,  must  call  forth  an 
answer  of  some  sort  or  other,  which  would  lead  to  an- 
other— and  another — and  another — and  so  on.  He  was 
right.  A  twopenny-post  letter  was  put  into  Mr.  Warning- 
ham's  hands  the  next  morning  before  he  rose,  which  was 

from  Miss  ,  elegantly  written,  and  thanked  him  for 

the  "tasteful  present"  he  had  sent  her,  which  she  should, 
with  great  pleasure,  take  an  early  opportunity  of  grati- 
fying him  by  wearing  in  public. 

There  never  yet  lived  an  actress,  I  verily  believe,  who 
had  fortitude  enough  to  refuse  a  present  of  jewelry! 

What  was  to  be  done  next  he  did  not  exactly  know; 
but  having  succeeded  at  last  in  opening  an  avenue  of  com- 


78  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

munication  with  her,  and  induced  her  so  easily  to  lie 
under  an  obligation  to  him,  he  felt  convinced  that  his  way 
was  now  clear.  He  determined,  therefore,  to  call  and  see 
her  that  very  afternoon;  but  his  medical  friend,  seeing 
the  state  of  feverish  excitement  in  which  he  continued, 
absolutely  interdicted  him  from  leaving  the  house.  The 
next  day  he  felt  considerably  better,  but  was  not  allowed 
to  leave  the  house.  He  could,  therefore,  find  no  other 
means  of  consoling  himself  than  writing  a  note  to  Miss 
,  saying  he  had  "something  important"  to  communi- 
cate to  her,  and  begging  to  know  when  she  would  permit 
him  to  wait  upon  her  for  that  purpose.  What  does  the 
reader  imagine  this  pretext  of  "something  important" 
was?  To  ask  her  to  sit  for  her  portrait  to  a  young  artist ! 
His  stratagem  succeeded ;  for  he  received,  in  the  course 
of  the  next  day,  a  polite  invitation  to  breakfast  with  Miss 

on  the  next  Sunday  morning ;  with  a  hint  that  he 

might  expect  no  other  company,  and  that  Miss was 

"curious"  to  know  what  his  particular  business  with  her 
was.  Poor  Mr,  Warningham !  How  was  he  to  exist  in 
the  interval  between  this  day  and  Sunday?  He  would 
fain  have  annihilated  it. 

Sunday  morning  at  last  arrived ;  and,  about  nine 
o'clock,  he  sallied  from  his  hotel — ^the  first  time  he  had 
left  it  for  several  days — and  drove  to  the  house.  With  a 
fluttering  heart  he  knocked  at  the  door,  and  a  maid-ser- 
vant ushered  him  into  an  elegant  apartment,  in  which 
breakfast  was  laid.  An  elderly  lady,  some  female  rela- 
tive  of   the   actress,   was   reading   a   newspaper   at   the 

breakfast-table ;  and  Miss herself  was  seated  at  the 

piano,  practicing  one  of  those  exquisite  songs  which  had 
been  listened  to  with  breathless  rapture  by  thousands. 
She  wore  an  elegant  morning-dress ;  and,  though  her  in- 
fatuated visitor  had  come  prepared  to  see  her  at  great 
disadvantage,  divested  of  the  dazzling  complexion  she 
exhibited  on  the  stage,  her  pale  and  somewhat  sallow 
features,  which  wore  a  pensive  and  fatigued  expression, 
served  to  rivet  the  chains  of  his  admiration  still  stronger 
with  the  feelings  of  sympathy.  Her  beautiful  eyes  beamed 


THE  DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  79 

on  him  with  sweetness  and  affability;  and  there  was  an 
ease,  a  gentleness  in  her  manners,  and  a  soft  animating 
tone  in  her  voice,  which  filled  Mr.  Warningham  with 
emotions  of  indescribable  tenderness.  A  few  moments 
beheld  them  seated  at  the  breakfast-table;  and  when  Mr. 
Warningham  gazed  at  his  fair  hostess,  and  reflected  on 
his  envied  contiguity  to  one  whose  beauty  and  talents 
were  the  theme  of  universal  admiration — listened  to  her 
lively  and  varied  conversation,  and  perceived  a  faint  crim- 
son steal  for  an  instant  over  her  countenance,  when  he 
reminded  her  of  his  exclamation  at  the  theatre — he  felt 
a  swelling  excitement,  which  would  barely  suffer  him  to 
preserve  an  exterior  calmness  of  demeanor.  He  felt,  as 
he  expressed  it — (for  he  has  often  recounted  these  scenes 
to  me) — that  she  was  maddening  him !  Of  course,  he 
exerted  himself  in  conversation  to  the  utmost ;  and  his 
observations  on  almost  every  topic  of  polite  literature 
were  met  with  equal  spirit  and   sprightliness  by   Miss 

.     He  found  her  fully  capable  of  appreciating  the 

noblest  passages  from  Shakespeare  and  some  of  the 
older  English  dramatists,  and  that  was  sufficient  to  lay 
enthusiastic  Mr.  Warningham  at  the  feet  of  any  woman. 
He  was  reciting  a  passionate  passage  from  Romeo  and 

Juliet,  to  which  Miss was  listening  with  an  apparent 

air  of  kindling  enthusiasm,  when  a  phaeton  dashed  up 
to  the  door,  and  an  impetuous  thundering  of  the  knocker 
announced  the  arrival  of  some  aristocratical  visitor.  The 
elderly  lady  who  was  sitting  with  them  started,  colored, 
and  exclaimed — "Good  God!  will  you  receive  the  man 
this  morning?" 

"Oh,  it's  only  Lord !"  exclaimed  Miss with  an 

air  of  indifference,  after  having  examined  the  eqviipage 
through  the  window-blinds,  "and  I  won't  see  the  man — 
that's  flat.  He  pesters  me  to  death,"  she  continued, 
turning  to  Mr.  Warningham,  with  a  pretty  peevish  air. 
It  had  its  effect  on  him.  What  an  enviable  fellow  I  am, 
to  be  received  when  Lords  are  refused !  thought  Mr. 
Warningham. 

"Not  at  home!"  drawled  Miss  coldly,  as  the  ser- 


80  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

vant  brought  in  Lord 's  card.    "You  know  one  can't 

see  everybody,  Mr.  Warningham,"  she  said  with  a  smile. 
"Oh,  Mr.  Warningham  ! — lud,  lud  ! — don't  go  to  the  win- 
dow till  the  man's  gone !"  she  exclaimed ;  and  her  small 
white  hand,  with  his  emerald  ring  glistening  on  her  sec- 
ond finger,  was  hurriedly  laid  on  his  shoulder,  to  pre- 
vent his  going  to  the  window.  Mr.  Warningham  declared 
to  me  he  could  at  that  moment  have  settled  his  whole 
fortune  on  her! 

After  the  breakfast  things  were  removed  she  sat  down, 
at  his  request,  to  the  piano — a  very  magnificent  present 

from  the  Duke  of ,  Mrs. assured  him — and  sang 

and  played  whatever  he  asked.  She  played  a  certain  well- 
know  arch  air,  with  the  most  bewitching  simplicity,  Mr. 
Warningham  could  only  look  his  feelings.  As  she  con- 
cluded, and  was  dashing  off  the  symphony  in  a  careless 

but  rapid  and  brilliant  style,  Mrs. ,  the  old  lady  once 

or  twice  before  mentioned,  left  the  room ;  and  Mr.  War- 
ningham, scarcely  knowing  what  he  did,  suddenly  sank 
on  one  knee  from  the  chair  on  which  he  was  sitting  by 
Miss ,  grasped  her  hand,  and  uttered  some  exclama- 
tion of  passionate  fondness.     Miss  turned  to  him  a 

moment,  with  a  surprised  air,  her  large,  liquid  blue  eyes, 
almost  entirely  hid  beneath  her  half  closed  lids ;  her 
features  relaxed  into  a  coquettish  smile,  she  disengaged 
her  hand,  and  went  on  playing  and  singing — 

"He  sighs — 'Beauty!  I  adore  thee, 
See  me  fainting  thus  before  thee;' 
But  I  say — 

Fal,  lal,  lal,  la!  Fal,  lal,  lal,  la! 
Fal,  lal,"  etc. 

"Fascinating,  angelic  woman  ! — glorious  creature  of  in- 
tellect and  beauty,  I  cannot  live  but  in  your  presence !" 
gasped  Mr.  Warningham. 

"O  lord !  what  an  actor  you  would  have  made,  Mr. 
Warningham — indeed  you  would !  Only  think  how  it 
would  sound — 'Romeo,  Mr.  Warningham  !' — Lud,  lud  I 
— the  man  would  almost  persuade  me  that  he  was  in 
earnest!"  replied  Miss  ,  with  the  most  enchanting 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  81 

air,  and  ceased  playing.  Mr.  Warningham  continued  ad- 
dressing her  in  the  most  extravagant  manner;  indeed, 
he  afterwards  told  me,  he  felt  "as  though  his  wits  were 
slipping  from  him  every  instant." 

"Why  don't  you  go  on  the  stage,  Mr.  Warningham?" 

inquired  Miss ,  with  a  more  earnest  and  serious  air 

than  she  had  hitherto  manifested,  and  gazing  at  him  with 
an  eye  which  expressed  real  admiration — for  she  was 
touched  by  the  winning,  persuasive,  and  passionate  elo- 
quence with  which  Mr.  Warningham  expressed  himself. 
She  had  hardly  uttered  the  words,  when  a  loud  and  long 

knock  was  heard  at  the  street-door.    Miss suddenly 

started  from  the  piano,  turned  pale,  and  exclaimed,  in  a 
hurried   and   agitated   tone — "Lord,   lord,   what's   to   be 

done? — Captain  !  what  ever  can  have  brought  him 

up  to  town — oh  !  my ." 

"Good  God ,  madam,  what  can  possibly  alarm  you  in 
this  manner?'^  exclaimed  Mr.  Warningham,  with  a  sur- 
prised air.    "What  on  earth  can  there  be  in  this  Captain 

to  startle  you  in  this  manner?    What  can  the  man 

want  here,  if  his  presence  is  disagreeable  to  you?  Pray, 
madam,  give  him  the  same  answer  you  gave  Lord !" 

"Oh,  Mr.  War — dear,  dear!  the  door  is  opened — what 

will  become  of  me  if  Captain sees  you  here?    Ah,  I 

have    it — you    must — country    manager — provincial    en- 

ga^ — "  hurriedly  muttered  Miss  ,  as  the  room  door 

opened,  and  a  gentleman  of  lofty  and  military  bearing, 
dressed  in  a  blue  surtout  and  white  trousers,  with  a  slight 
walking-cane  in  his  hand,  entered,  and  without  observing 
Mr.  Warningham,  who  at  the  moment  happened  to  be 
standing  rather  behind  the  door,  hurried  towards  Miss 

,   exclaiming,   with   a   gay   and   fond   air,   "Ha,   my 

charming  De  Medici,  how  d'ye  do? — Why  whom  have 
we  here?"  he  inquired,  suddenly  breaking  off  and  turn- 
ing with  an  astonished  air  towards  Mr.  Warningham. 

"What  possible  business  can  this  person  have  here, 

Miss ?"  inquired  the  Captain  with  a  cold  and  angry 

air,  letting  fall  her  hand,  which  he  had  grasped  on  enter- 
ing, and  eyeing  Mr.  Warningham  with  a  furious  scowl. 


82  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

Miss  muttered  something  indistinctly  about  busi-      * 

ness^— a  provincial  engagement — and  looked  appealingly 
towards  Mr.  Warningham,  as  if  beseeching  him  to  take 
the  cue,  and  assume  the  character  of  a  country  manager. 
Mr.  Warningham,  however,  was  not  experienced  enough 
in  matters  of  this  kind  to  take  the  hint. 

"My  good  sir — I  beg  pardon,  Captain" — said  he,  but- 
toning his  coat,  and  speaking  in  a  voice  almost  choked 
with  fury — "What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this?  What  do 
you  mean,  sir,  by  this  insolent  bearing  towards  me?" 

"Good  God !  Do  you  know,  sir,  whom  you  are  speak- 
ing to?"  inquired  the  Captain,  with  an  air  of  wonder. 

"I  care  as  little  as  I  know,  sir ;  but  this  I  know — I  shall 
give  you  to  understand  that,  whoever  you  are,  I  won't  be 
bullied  by  you." 

"The  devil !"  exclaimed  the  Captain  slowly,  as  if  he 

hardly  comprehended  what  was  passing.    Miss ,  pale 

as  a  statue,  and  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  leaned 
speechless  against  the  corner  of  the  piano,  apparently 
stupified  by  the  scene  that  was  passing. 

"Oh,  by !  this  will  never  do,"  at  length  exclaimed 

the  Captain,  as  he  rushed  up  to  Mr.  Warningham,  and 
struck  him  furiously  over  the  shoulders  with  his  cane. 
He  was  going  to  seize  Mr.  Warningham's  collar  with  his 
left  hand,  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  inflicting  further  chas- 
tisement, when  Mr.  Warningham,  who  was  a  very  mus- 
cular man,  shook  him  off,  and  dashed  his  right  hand  full 
into  the  face  of  the  Captain.  Miss shrieked  for  as- 
sistance— while  the  Captain  put  himself  instantly  into  at- 
titude, and,  being  a  first-rate  "miller,"  as  the  phrase  is, 
before  Mr.  Warningham  could  prepare  himself  for  the 
encounter,  let  fall  a  sudden  shower  of  blows  about  Mr. 
Warningham's  head  and  breast,  that  fell  on  him  like  the 
strokes  of  a  sledge-hammer.  He  was,  of  course,  in- 
stantly laid  prostrate  on  the  floor  in  a  state  of  insensi- 
bility, and  recollected  nothing  further  till  he  found  him- 
self lying  in  his  bed  at  the Hotel,  about  the  middle 

of  the  night,  faint  and  weak  with  the  loss  of  blood,  his 
head  bandaged,  and  amid  all  the  desagrements  and  at- 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  83 

tendance  of  a  sick  man's  chamber.  How  or  when  he 
had  been  conveyed  to  the  hotel  he  knew  not,  till  he  was 

informed,   some   weeks    afterwards,    that   Captain   , 

having  learned  his  residence  from  Miss ,  had  brought 

him  in  his  carriage  in  a  state  of  stupor.  All  the  circum- 
stances above  related  combined  to  throw  Mr.  Warning- 
ham  into  a  fever,  which  increased  upon  him ;  the  state  of 
nervous  excitement  in  which  he  had  lived  for  the  last 
few  days  aggravated  the  other  symptoms — and  delirium 
deepened  into  downright  madness.  The  medical  man, 
who  has  been  several  times  before  mentioned  as  a  friendly 
attendant  to  Mr.  Warningham,  finding  that  matters  grew 
so  serious,  and  being  unwilling  any  longer  to  bear  the 
sole  responsibility  of  the  case,  advised  Mr.  Warningham's 
friends,  who  had  been  summoned  from  a  distint  county 
to  his  bedside,  to  call  me  in :  and  this  was  the  statu,  quo 
of  afifairs  when  I  paid  my  first  visit. 

On  entering  the  room  I  found  a  keeper  sitting  on  each 
side  of  the  bed  on  vv^hich  lay  Mr.  Warningham,  who  was 
raving  fearfully,  gnashing  his  teeth,  and  imprecating  the 

most  frightful  curses  upon  Captain  .     It  was  with 

the  utmost  difficulty  that  the  keepers  could  hold  him 
down,  even  though  my  unfortunate  patient  was  suffering 
under  the  restraint  of  a  strait  waistcoat-  His  counte- 
nance, which,  I  think,  I  mentioned  was  naturally  very  ex- 
pressive, if  not  handsome,  exhibited  the  most  ghastly 
contortions.  His  eyes  glared  into  every  corner  of  the 
room,  and  seemed  about  to  start  from  their  sockets. 
After  standing  for  some  moments  a  silent  spectator  of 
this  painful  scene,  endeavoring  to  watch  the  current  of 
his  malady,  and,  at  the  same  time,  soothe  the  affliction  of 
his  uncle,  who  was  standing  by  my  side  dreadfully  agi- 
tated, I  ventured  to  approach  nearer,  observing  him  al- 
most exhausted,  and  relapsing  into  silence — undisturbed 
but  by  heavy  and  stertorous  breathing.  He  lay  with  his 
face  buried  in  the  pillow  and,  on  my  putting  my  fingers 
to  his  temples,  he  suddenly  turned  his  face  towards  me. 
"God  bless  me — Mr.  Kean !"  said  he,  in  an  altered  tone — 
"this  is  really  a  very  unexpected  honor !"     He  seemed 


84  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

embarrassed  at  seeing  me.  I  determined  to  humor  his 
fancy — the  only  rational  method  of  dealing  with  such 
patients.  I  may  as  well  say,  in  passing,  that  some  per- 
sons have  not  unfrequently  found  a  resemblance — faint 
and  slight,  if  any  at  all — between  my  features  and  those 
of  the  celebrated  tragedian,  for  whom  I  was  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion  mistaken, 

"Oh,  yours  are  terrible  eyes,  Mr.  Kean — very,  very  ter- 
rible!  Where  did  you  get  them?  What  fiend  touched 
them  with  such  unnatural  lustre?  They  are  not  human — 
no,  no!  What  do  you  think  I  have  often  fancied  they 
resembled?" 

"Really,  I  can't  pretend  to  say,  sir,"  I  replied,  with 
some  curiosity. 

'Why,  one  of  the  damned  inmates  of  hell — glaring 
through  the  fiery  bars  of  his  prison,"  replied  Mr.  Warn- 
ingham  with  a  shudder.  "Is  not  that  a  ghastly  fancy?" 
he  inquired. 

"  'Tis  horrible  enough,  indeed,"  said  I,  determined  to 
humor  him. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha! — Ha,  ha,  ha!" — roared  the  wretched  ma- 
niac, with  a  laugh  which  made  us  all  quake  around  his  bed- 
side. "I  can  say  better  things  than  that,  though  it  is 
good!  It's  nothing  like  the  way  in  which  I  shall  talk 
to-morrow  morning — ha,  ha,  ha ! — for  I  am  going  down 
to  hell,  to  learn  some  of  the  fiends'  talk;  and  when  I  come 
back,  I'll  give  you  a  lesson,  Mr.  Kean,  shall  be  worth  two 
thousand  a-year  to  you — ha,  ha,  ha ! — what  d'ye  say  to 
that,  Othello?"  He  paused,  and  continued  mumbling 
something  to  himself  in  a  strangely  different  tone  of 
voice  from  that  in  which  he  had  just  addressed  me. 

"Mr.  Kean,  Mr.  Kean,"  said  he  suddenly,  "you're  the 
very  man  I  want ;  I  suppose  they  had  told  you  I  had  been 
asking  for  you,  eh?" 

"Yes,  certainly  I  heard." 

"Very  good — 'twas  civil  of  them ;  but,  now  you  are 
here,  just  shade  those  basilisk  eyes  of  yours,  for  they 
blight  my  soul  within  me."  I  did  as  he  directed.  "Now, 
I'll  tell  you  what  I've  been  thinking — I've  got  a  tragedy 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  85 

ready,  very  nearly  at  least,  and  there's  a  magnificent 
character  for  you  in  it — expressly  written  for  you — a 
compound  of  Richard,  Shylock,  and  Sir  Giles — your  mas- 
terpiece— a  sort  of  quartum  quiddam — eh — you  hear  me, 
Mr.  Kean?" 

"Ay,  and  mark  thee  too,  Hal!"  I  replied,  thinking  a 
quotation  from  his  favorite  Shakespeare  would  soothe 
and  flatter  his  inflamed  fancy. 

"Ah — aptly  quoted — happy,  happy!  By  the  way,  talk- 
ing of  that,  I  don't  at  all  admire  your  personation  of 
Hamlet — I  don't,  Mr.  Kean,  I  don't.  'Tis  utterly  mis- 
conceived— wrong  from  beginning  to  end — it  is  really. 
You  see  what  an  independent,  straightforward  critic  I 
am — ha,  ha,  ha!" — accompanying  the  words  with  a  laugh, 
if  not  as  loud,  as  fearful,  as  his  former  ones.  I  told  him 
I  bowed  to  his  judgment. 

"Good,"  he  answered;  "genius  should  always  be  can- 
did. Macready  has  a  single  whisper,  when  he  inquires, 
'Is  it  the  King?'  which  is  worth  all  your  fiendish  mutter- 
ings  and  gaspings — ha,  ha!  'Does  the  galled  jade  wince? 
Her  withers  are  unwrung' — Mr.  Kean,  how  absurd  you 
are,  ill-mannered — pardon  me  for  saying  it — for  inter- 
rupting me,"  he  said,  after  a  pause ;  adding  with  a  puz- 
zled air,  "What  was  it  I  was  talking  about  when  you 
interrupted  me?" 

"Do  you  mean  the  tragedy?" (I   had  not  opened 

my  lips  to  interrupt  him.) 

"Ha — the  tragedy. 

The  play,  the  play's  the  thing 

Wherein  I'll  catch  the  conscience  of  the  King. 

Ah — the  tragedy  was  it  I  was  mentioning?  Rem  acu — 
acu  tetigisti — that's  Latin,  Mr.  Kean!  did  you  ever  learn 
Latin  and  Greek,  eh !" — I  told  him  I  had  studied  them  a 
little. 

"What  can  you  mean  by  interrupting  me  thus  unman- 
nerly?— Mr.  Kean,  I  won't  stand  it.  Once  more — what 
was  it  I  was  talking  about  a  few  minutes  ago?"  He  had 
again  let  slip  the  thread  of  his  thoughts.  "A  digression, 


86  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

this,  Mr.  Kean;  I  must  be  mad — indeed  I  must!"  he  con- 
tinued, with  a  shudder  and  a  look  of  sudden  sanity — "I 
must  be  mad,  and  I  can't  help  thinking  what  a  profound 
knowledge  of  human  nature  Shakespeare  shows  when 
he  makes  memory  the  test  of  sanity — a  vast  depth  of 
philosophy  in  it,  eh?  D'ye  recollect  the  passage— eh, 
Kean?"  I  said  I  certainly  could  not  call  it  to  mind. 

"Then  it's  infamous! — a  shame  and  disgrace  to  you. 
It's  quite  true  what  people  say  of  you — you  are  a  mere 
tragedy  hack !  Why  don't  you  try  to  get  out  of  that  mill- 
horse  round  of  your  hackneyed  characters?  Excuse  me; 
you  know  I  am  a  vast  admirer  of  yours,  but  an  honest 
one! — Curse  me,"  after  a  sudden  pause,  adding  with  a 
bewildered  and  angry  air,  "what  was  it  I  was  going  to 
say? — I've  lost  it  again! — oh,  a  passage  from  Shakes- 
peare— memory  test  of — Ah,  now  we  have  him !  'Tis  this  : 
mark  and  remember  it! — 'tis  in  King  Lear — 

Bring  me  to  the  test, 


And  I  the  matter  will  re-word,  \vhich  madness 
Would  gambol  from. 

Profoundly  true — isn't  it,  Kean?" — Of  course  I  ac- 
quiesced. 

"Ah,"  he  resumed,  with  a  pleased  smile,  "nobody  now 
can  write  like  that  except  myself — Go  it,  Harry — ha,  ha, 
ha ! — Who — oo — o  !"  uttering  the  strangest  kind  of  re- 
volting cry  I  ever  heard.  "Oh  dear,  dear  me,  what  was 
it  I  was  saying?  The  thought  keeps  slipping  from  me 
like  a  lithe  eel ;  I  can't  hold  it.  Eels,  by  the  way,  are 
nothing  but  a  sort  of  water-snake — 'tis  brutal  to  eat 
them!  What  made  me  name  eels,  Mr.  Kean?"  I  re- 
minded him.  "Ah,  there  must  be  a  screw  loose — some- 
thing wrong  here,"  shaking  his  head  ;  "it's  all  upside  down 
— ha!  what  was  it  now?"  I  once  more  recalled  it  to  his 
mind,  for  I  saw  he  was  fretting  himself  with  vexation  at 
being  unable  to  take  up  the  chain  of  his  thoughts. 

"Ah ! — well  now,  once  more — I  said  I'd  a  character  for 
you — good ;  do  it  justice — or,  by  my  life,  I'll  hiss  you  like 
a  huge  boa  coiled  in  the  middle  of  the  pit!    There's  a 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  87 

thought  for  you,  by  the  way ! — Stay — I'm  losing  the 
thought  again — hold  it — hold  it." 

"The  tragedy,  sir" 

"Ah,  to  be  sure — I've  another  character  for  Miss 

(naming  the  actress  before  mentioned) — magnificent 
queen  of  beauty — nightingale  of  song — radiant — peerless 
— Ah,  lady,  look  on  me ! — look  on  me !"  and  he  suddenly 
burst  into  one  of  the  most  tiger-like  howls  I  could  con- 
ceive capable  of  being  uttered  by  a  human  being.  It  must 
have  been  heard  in  the  street  and  market  without.  We 
who  were  round  him  stood  listening,  chilled  with  hor- 
ror. When  he  had  ceased,  I  said,  in  a  soothing  whisper, 
"Compose  3'ourself,  Mr.  Warningham — you'll  see  her  by 
and  by."  He  looked  me  full  in  the  face,  and  uttered  as 
shocking  a  yell  as  before. 

"Avaunt !  out  on  ye  !  scoundrels  ! — fiends  ,"  he  shouted, 
struggling  with  the  men  who  were  endeavoring  to  hold 
him  down,  "Are  you  come  to  murder  me?  Ha — a — a — 
a!''  and  he  fell  back  as  though  he  was  in  the  act  of  being 
choked  or  throttled. 

"Where — where  is  the  fiend  who  struck  me?" — he 
groaned,  in  a  fiercer  undertone;  "and  in  Her  presence, 
too ;  and  she  stood  by  looking  on — cruel,  beautiful,  de- 
ceitful woman!  Did  she  turn  pale  and  tremble?  Will 
not  I  have  his  blood — blood — blood?"  and  he  clutched  his 
fists  with  a  savage  and  murderous  force.  "Ah !  you  around 
me  say,  does  not  blood  cleanse  the  deepest,  foulest  stain — 
or  hide  it?  Pour  it  on,  warm  and  reeking — a  crimson 
flood — and  never  trust  me  if  it  does  not  wash  out  insult 
for  ever!  Ha,  ha,  ha!  Oh,  let  me  loose!  let  me  loose! 
Let  me  but  cast  my  eyes  on  the  insolent  ruffian — the 
brutal  bully — let  me  but  lay  hands  on  him !"  and  he  drew 
■in  his  breath,  with  a  long,  fierce,  and  deep  respiration. 
"Will  I  not  shake  him  out  of  his  military  trappings  and 
fooleries?  Ha,  devils!  unhand  me.  I  say,  unhand  me, 
and  let  me  loose  on  this  Captain !" 

In  this  strain  the  unhappy  young  man  continued  rav- 
ing for  about  ten  minutes  longer,  till  he  utterly  exhausted 
himself.     The  paroxysm  was  over  for  the  present.     The 


88  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

keepers,  aware  of  this  (for,  of  course,  they  were  accus- 
tomed to  such  fearful  scenes  as  these,  and  preserved  the 
most  cool  and  matter-of-fact  demeanor  conceivable),  re- 
laxed their  hold.  Mr.  Warningham  lay  perfectly  mo- 
tionless, with  his  eyes  closed,  breathing  slow  and  heavily, 
while  the  perspiration  burst  from  every  pore.  His  pulse 
and  other  symptoms  showed  me  that  a  few  more  similar 
paroxysms  would  destroy  him;  and  that,  consequently, 
the  most  active  remedies  must  be  had  recourse  to  im- 
mediately. I  therefore  directed  what  was  to  be  done — 
his  head  to  be  shaved — that  he  should  be  bled  copiously 
— kept  perfectly  cool  and  tranquil — and  prescribed  such 
medicines  as  I  conceived  most  calculated  to  eflFect  this 

object.    On  my  way  down-stairs,  I  encountered  Mr. , 

the  proprietor  or  landlord  of  the  hotel,  who,  with  a  very 
agitated  air,  told  me,  he  must  insist  on  having  Mr.  Warn- 
ingham  removed  immediately  from  the  hotel ;  for  that 
his  ravings  disturbed  and  agitated  everybody  in  the 
place,  and  had  been  loudly  complained  of.  Seeing  the 
reasonableness  of  this,  my  patient  was,  with  my  sanction, 
conveyed  that  evening  to  airy  and  genteel  lodgings  in 
one  of  the  adjoining  streets.  The  three  or  four  follow- 
ing visits  I  paid  him,  presented  scenes  little  varying  from 
the  one  I  have  above  been  attempting  to  describe.  They 
gradually,  however,  abated  in  violence. 

I  shall  not  be  guilty  of  extravagance  or  exaggeration, 
if  I  protest,  that  there  was  sometimes  a  vein  of  sublimity 
in  his  ravings.  He  really  said  some  of  the  very  finest 
things  I  ever  heard.  This  need  not  occasion  wonder,  if 
it  be  recollected,  that  "out  of  the  fulness  of  the  heart  the 
mouth  speaketh";  and  Mr.  Warningham's  naturally  pow- 
erful mind  was  filled  with  accumulated  stores,  acquired 
from  almost  every  region  of  literature.  His  fancy  was 
deeply  tinged  with  Germanism — with  diablerie — and 
some  of  his  ghostly  images  used  to  haunt  and  creep  after 
me,  like  spirits,  gibbering  and  chattering  the  expressions 
with  which  the  maniac  had  conjured  them  into  being. 

To  me,  nothing  is  so  affecting — so  terrible — so  humiliat- 
ing, as  to  see  a  powerful  intellect  like  that  of  Mr.  Warn- 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  89 

ingham,  the  prey  of  insanity,  exhibiting  glimpses  of 
greatness  and  beauty,  amid  all  the  chaotic  gloom  and 
havoc  of  madness ;  reminding  one  of  the  mighty  frag- 
ments of  some  dilapidated  structure  of  Greece  or  Rome, 
mouldering  apart  from  one  another,  still  displaying  the 
exquisite  moulding  and  chiselling  of  the  artist,  and  en- 
hancing the  beholder's  regret  that  so  glorious  a  fabric 
should  have  been  destroyed  by  the  ruthless  hand  of  time.* 
Insanity,  indeed,  makes  the  most  fearful  inroads  on  an 
intellect  distinguished  by  its  activity;  and  the  flame  is 
fed  rapidly  by  the  fuel  afforded  from  an  excitable  and 
vigorous  fancy.  A  tremendous  responsibility  is  incurred, 
in  such  cases,  by  the  medical  attendants.  Long  exper- 
ience has  convinced  me  that  the  only  successful  way  of 
dealing  with  such  patients  as  Mr.  Warningham,  is  chim- 
ing in  readily  with  their  various  fancies  without  seem- 
ing in  the  slightest  degree  shocked  or  alarmed  by  the 
most  monstrous  extravagances.  The  patient  must  never 
be  startled  by  any  appearance  of  surprise  or  apprehen- 
sion from  those  around  him — never  irritated  by  contra- 
diction, or  indications  of  impatience.  Should  this  be 
done  by  some  inexperienced  attendant,  the  mischief  may 
prove  irremediable  by  any  subsequent  treatment ;  the 
flame  will  blaze  out  with  a  fury  which  will  consume  in- 
stantly every  vestige  of  intellectual  structure,  leaving 
the  body — the  shell — the  bare,  blackened  walls,  alone, 

A  scoff,  a  jest,  a  byword  through   the  world. 

Let  the  patient  have  sea-room ;  allow  him  to  dash  about 
for  a  while  in  the  tempest  and  whirlwind  of  his  disor- 
dered faculties ;  while  all  that  is  necessary  from  those 
around  is  to  watch  the  critical  moment,  and  pour  the  oil 
of  soothing  acquiescence  on  the  foaming  waters.  Depend 
upon  it,  the  uproar  will  subside  when  the  winds  of 
opposition  cease. — To  return,  however,  to  Mr.  Warning- 
ham.     The  incubus  which  had  brooded  over  his  intel- 

*Two  newspapers  have  charged  the  writer  with  borrowing 
this  image  from  Dr.  Hallam's  Treatise  on  Insanity.  If  that  au- 
thor has  a  similar  thought,  the  coincidence  is  purely  accidental; 
for  I  never  saw  his  book  in  my  life. 


DO  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

lect  for  more  than  a  week,  at  length  disappeared,  leav- 
ing its  victim  trembling  on  the  very  verge  of  the  grave. 
In  truth,  I  do  not  recollect  ever  seeing  a  patient  whose 
energies,  both  physical  and  mental,  were  so  dreadfully 
shattered.  He  had  lost  almost  all  muscular  power.  He 
could  not  raise  his  hand  to  his  head,  alter  his  position  in 
the  bed,  or  even  masticate  his  food.  For  several  days,  it 
could  barely  be  said  that  he  existed.  He  could  utter 
nothing  more  than  an  almost  inaudible  whisper,  and 
seemed  utterly  unconscious  of  what  was  passing  around 
him.  His  sister,  a  young  and  very  interesting  woman, 
had  flown  to  his  bedside  immediately  the  family 
were  acquainted  with  his  illness,  and  had  continued  ever 
since  in  daily  and  nightly  attendance  on  him,  till  she  her- 
self seemed  almost  worn  out.  How  I  loved  her  for  her 
pallid,  exhausted,  anxious,  yet  affectionate  looks!  Had 
not  this  illness  intervened,  she  would  have  been  before 
this  time  married  to  a  rising  young  man  at  the  Bar ;  yet 
her  devoted  sisterly  S3'^mpathies  attached  her  to  her 
brother's  bedside  without  repining,  and  she  would  never 
think  of  leaving  him.  Her  feelings  may  be  conceived, 
when  it  is  known  that  she  was  in  a  great  measure  ac- 
quainted with  the  cause  of  her  brother's  sudden  illness; 
and  it  was  her  painful  duty  to  sit  and  listen  to  many  un- 
conscious disclosures  of  the  most  afflicting  nature.  This 
latter  circumstance  furnished  the  first  source  of  uneasi- 
ness to  Mr.  Warningham,  on  recovering  the  exercise  of 
his  rational  faculties.  He  was  excessively  agitated  at 
the  idea  of  his  having  alluded  to  and  described  the  dis- 
sipated and  profligate  scenes  of  his  college  life ;  and  when 
he  had  once  compelled  me  to  acknowledge  that  his  sis- 
ter and  other  relations  were  apprised  of  the  events  which 
led  to  his  illness,  he  sank  into  moody  silence  for  some 
time,  evidently  scourging  himself  with  the  heaviest  self- 
reproaches,  and  presently  exclaimed— "Well,  doctor,  thus 
you  see  has 

Even-handed   justice 
Compell'd    the    poison'd    chalice    to    my    lips — 

and  I  have  drunk  the  foul  draught  to  the  dregs.     Yet, 


THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  91 

though  I  would  at  this  moment  lay  down  half  my  fortune 
to  blot  from  their  memories  what  they  must  have  heard 
me  utter,  I  shall  submit  in  silence — I  have  richly  earned 
it! — I  now,  however,  bid  farewell  to  debauchery — profli- 
gacy— dissipation,  forever."  I  interrupted  him  by  say- 
ing, I  was  not  aware,  nor  were  his  relatives,  that  he  had 
been  publicly  distinguished  as  a  debauchee.  "Why,  doc- 
tor," he  replied,  "possibly  not — there  may  be  others  who 
have  exposed  themselves  more  absurdly  than  I  have — 
who  have  drunk  and  raked  more — but  mine  has  been  the 
viler  profligacy  of  the  heart — the  dissipation  of  feelings. 
But  it  shall  cease !  God  knows  I  never  thoroughly  en- 
joyed it,  though  it  has  occasioned  me  a  delirious  sort  of 
excitement,  which  has  at  length  nearly  destroyed  me.  I 
have  clambered  out  of  the  scorching  crater  of  Etna, 
scathed,  but  not  consumed.  I  will  now  descend  into  the 
tranquil  vales  of  virtue,  and  never,  never  leave  them !'" 
He  wept — for  he  had  not  yet  recovered  the  tone  or  mas- 
tery of  his  feelings.  These  salutary  thoughts  led  to  a 
permanent  reformation  ;his  illness,  in  short,  had  produced 
its  effect.  One  other  thing  there  was  which  yet  occa- 
sioned him  disquietude  and  uncertainty ;  he  said  he  felt 

bound  to  seek  the  usual  "satisfaction"  from  Captain ! 

I  and  all  around  him,  to  whom  he  hinted  it,  scouted  the 
idea;  and  he  himself  relinquished  it  on  hearing  that  Cap- 
tain    had   called  often   during  his   illness,   and   left 

many  cards,  with  the  most  anxious  inquiries  after  his 
health,  and,  in  a  day  or  two,  had  a  private  interview 
with  Mr.  Warningham,  when  he  apologized,  in  the  most 
prompt  and  handsome  manner,  for  his  violent  conduct, 
and  expressed  the  liveliest  regrets  at  the  serious  conse- 
quences with  which  it  had  been  attended. 

Mr.  Warningham,  to  conclude,  recovered  but  slowly ; 
and  as  soon  as  his  weakness  would  permit  of  the  journey, 

removed  to  the  family  house  in  shire ;  from  thence 

he  went  to  the  sea-side,  and  stayed  there  till  the  close  of 
the  autumn,  reading  philosophy  and  some  of  the  leading 
writers  on  morals.  He  was  married  in  October,  and  set 
off  for  the  Continent  in  the  spring.     His  constitution, 


92  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

however,  had  received  a  shock*  from  which  it  never  re- 
covered ;  and,  two  years  after,  Mr.  Warningham  died  of  a 
decline  at  Genoa. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

^HERE  was  a  large  and  gay  party  assembled  one 
evening,  in  the  memorable  month  of  June,  1815, 
at  a  house  in  the  remote  western  suburbs  of 
London.  Throngs  of  handsome  and  well-dressed 
women — a  large  retinue  of  the  leading  men  about  town — 
the  dazzling  light  of  chandeliers  blazing  like  three  suns 
overhead — the  charms  of  music  and  dancing — together 
with  that  tone  of  excitement  then  pervading  society  at 
large,  owing  to  our  successful  Continental  campaigns, 
which  maddened  England  with  almost  daily  annuncia- 
tions of  victory — all  these  circumstances,  I  say,  com- 
bined to  supply  spirit  to  every  party.  In  fact,  England 
was  almost  turned  upside  down  with  universal  feting! 
Mrs.  ,  the  lady  whose  party  I  have  just  been  men- 
tioning, was  in  ecstacy  at  the  eclat  with  which  the  whole 
was  going  off,  and  charmed  with  the  buoyant  animation 
with  which  all  seemed  inclined  to  contribute  their  quota 
to  the  evening's  amusement.  A  young  lady  of  some  per- 
sonal attractions,  most  amiable  manners,  and  great  ac- 
complishments— particularly  musical — had  been  repeat- 
edly solicited  to  sit  down  to  the  piano,  for  the  purpose  of 
favoring  the  company  with  the  sweet  Scottish  air,  "The 
Banks  of  Allan  Water."  For  a  long  time,  however,  she 
steadfastly  resisted  their  importunities,  on  the  plea  of 
low  spirits.  There  was  evidently  an  air  of  deep  pensive- 
ness,  if  not  melancholy,  about  her,  which  ought  to  have 
corroborated  the  truth  of  the  plea  she  urged.  She  did 
not  seem  to  gather  excitement  with  the  rest;  and  rather 
endured,  than  shared,  the  gaities  of  the  evening.  Of 
course,  the  young  folks  around  her  of  her  own  sex  whis- 


94  THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

pered  their  suspicions  that  she  was  in  love ;  and,  in  point 
of  fact,  it  was  well  known  by  several  present,  that  Miss 
was  engaged  to  a  young  officer  who  had  earned  con- 
siderable distinction  in  the  Peninsular  campaign,  and  to 
whom  she  was  to  be  united  on  his  return  from  the  Conti- 
nent. It  need  not,  therefore,  be  wondered  at,  that  a 
thought  of  the  various  casualties  to  which  a  soldier's  life 
is  exposed — especially  a  bold  and  brave  young  soldier, 
such  as  her  intended  had  proved  himself — and  the  possi- 
bility, if  not  probability,  that  he  might,  alas!  never 

Return  to  claim  his  blushing  bride, 

but  be  left  behind  among  the  glorious  throng  of  the 
fallen,  sufficed  to  overcast  her  mind  with  gloomy  anx- 
ieties and  apprehensions.  It  was,  indeed,  owing  solely 
to  the  affectionate  importunities  of  her  relatives,  that 
she  was  prevailed  on  to  be  seen  in  society  at  all.  Had 
her  own  inclinations  been  consulted,  she  would  have 
sought  solitude,  where  she  might,  with  weeping  and 
trembling,  commend  her  hopes  to  the  hands  of  Him  "who 
seeth  in  secret,"  and  "in  whose  hands  are  the  issues"  of 

battle.    As,  however,  Miss 's  rich  contralto  voice  and 

skilful  powers  of  accompaniment,  were  much  talked  of, 
the  company  would  listen  to  no  excuses  or  apologies ;  so 
the  poor  girl  was  absolutely  baited  into  sitting  down  to 
the  piano,  when  she  ran  over  a  few  melancholy  chords 
with  an  air  of  reluctance  and  displacency.  Her  sympa- 
thies were  soon  excited  by  the  fine  tones — the  tumultuous 
melody — of  the  keys  she  touched ;  and  she  presently 
struck  into  the  soft  and  soothing  symphony  of  "The 
Banks  of  Allan  Water."  The  breathless  silence  of  the 
bystanders — for  nearly  all  the  company  had  thronged 
around — was  at  length  broken  by  her  voice,  stealing  "like 
faint  blue  gushing  streams"  on  the  delighted  ears  of  her 
auditors,  as  she  commenced  singing  that  exquisite  little 
ballad,  with  the  most  touching  pathos  and  simplicity. 
She  had  just  commenced  the  verse, 

For  his  bride,  a  soldier  sought  her. 
And  a  winning  tongue  had  he! 


THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  95 

when,  to  the  surprise  of  everybody  around  her,  she  sud- 
denly ceased  playing  and  singing,  without  removing  her 
hands  from  the  instrument,  and  gazed  steadfastly  for- 
ward with  a  vacant  air,  while  the  color  faded  from 
her  cheeks,  and  left  them  pale  as  the  lily.  She  continued 
thus  for  some  moments,  to  the  alarm  and  astonishment 
of  the  company — motionless,  and  apparently  unconscious 
of  any  one's  presence.  Her  elder  sister,  much  agitated, 
stepped  towards  her,  placed  her  hand  on  her  shoulder, 
endeavoring  gently  to   rouse   her,   and   said,   hurriedly, 

"Anne,  Anne!  what  is  the  matter?"    Miss made  no 

answer ;  but  a  few  moments  after,  without  moving  her 
eyes,  suddenly  burst  into  a  piercing  shriek !  Consterna- 
tion seized  all  present. 

"Sister — sister! Dear  Anne,  are  you  ill?"  again  in- 
quired her  trembling  sister,   endeavoring  to   rouse   her, 

but  in  vain.     Miss  did  not  seem  either  to  see  or 

hear  her.  Her  eyes  still  gazed  fixedly  forward,  till  they 
seemed  gradually  to  expand,  as  it  were,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  glassy  horror.  All  present  seemed  utterly  con- 
founded, and  afraid  to  interfere  with  her.  Whispers 
were  heard,  "She's  ill — in  a  fit — run  for  some  water! 
Good  God  ! — How  strange ! — what  a  piercing  shriek  !" — 

etc.,  etc.    At  length  Miss 's  lips  moved.     She  began 

to  mutter  inaudibly ;  but"  by  and  by  those  immediately 
near  her  could  distinguish  the  words,  "There ! — there 
they  are — with  their  lanterns.  Oh !  they  are  looking  for 
the  dc — a — d — they  turn  over  the  heaps.  Ah  ! — now — 
no; — that  little  hill  of  slain — see,  see! — they  are  turning 
them  over  one  by  one — There! — There  he  is! — Oh,  hor- 
ror! horror!  horror! — Right  through  the  heart!"  and, 
with  a  long  shuddering  groan,  she  fell  senseless  into  the 
arms  of  her  horror-struck  sister.  Of  course,  all  were  in 
confusion  and  dismay — not  a  face  present  but  was 
blanched  with  agitation  and  affright,  on  hearing  the  ex- 
traordinary words  she  uttered.  With  due  delicacy  and 
propriety  of  feeling,  all  those  whose  carrTages  had  hap- 
pened to  have  already  arrived,  instantly  took  their  de- 
parture, to  prevent  their  presence  embarrassing  or  m- 


96  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

terfering  with  the  family,  who  were  already  sufficiently 
bewildered.  The  room  was  soon  thinned  of  all,  except 
those  who  were  immediately  engaged  in  rendering  their 
services  to  the  young  lady;  and  a  servant  was  instantly 
despatched  with  a  horse,  for  me.  On  my  arrival,  I  found 
her  in  bed  (still  at  the  house  where  the  party  was  given, 
which  was  that  of  the  young  lady's  sister-in-law).  She 
had  fallen  into  a  succession  of  swoons  ever  since  she 
had  been  carried  up  from  the  drawing-room,  and  was 
perfectly  senseless  when  I  entered  the  bedchamber  where 
she  lay.  She  had  not  spoken  a  syllable  since  uttering  the 
singular  words  just  related ;  and  her  whole  frame  was 
cold  and  rigid — in  fact  she  seemed  to  have  received  some 
strange  shock,  which  had  altogether  paralyzed  her.  By 
the  use,  however,  of  strong  stimulants,  we  succeeded  in 
at  length  restoring  her  to  something  like  consciousness ; 
but  I  think  it  would  have  been  better  for  her,  judging 
from  the  event,  never  to  have  woke  again  from  forget- 
fulness.  She  opened  her  eyes  under  the  influence  of  the 
searching  stimulants  we  applied,  and  stared  vacantly  for 
an  instant  on  those  standing  round  her  bedside.  Her 
countenance,  of  an  ashy  hue,  was  damp  with  clammy 
perspiration,  and  she  lay  perfectly  motionless,  except 
when  her  frame  undulated  with  long  deep-drawn  sighs. 

"Oh,  wretched,  wretched,  wretched  girl !"  she  mur- 
mured at  length,  "  Why  have  I  lived  till  now?  Why  did 
you  not  suffer  me  to  expire?  He  called  me  to  join  him — 
I  was  going — and  you  will  not  let  me — but  I  must  go — 
yes,  yes!" 

"Anne — dearest! — why  do  you  talk  so?  Charles  is  not 
gone — he  will  return  soon — he  will  indeed,"  sobbed  her 
sister. 

"Oh,  never,  never!  You  could  not  see  what  I  saw, 
Jane,"  she  shuddered — "Oh,  it  was  frightful!  How  they 
tumbled  about  the  heaps  of  the  dead! — how  they  stripped 
— oh,  horror,  horror!" 

"My  dear  Miss  ,  you  are  dreaming — raving — in- 
deed you  are,"  said  I,  holding  her  hand  in  mine.  "Come, 
come,  you  must  not  give  way  to  such  gloomy,  such  ner- 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  97 

vous  fancies — you  must  not  indeed.  You  are  frightening 
your  friends  to  no  purpose." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  replied,  looking  me  sud- 
denly full  in  the  face.  "I  tell  you  it  is  true!  Ah  me! 
Charles   is   dead ! — I    know   it — I   saw   him !   Shot   right 

through   the  heart!  They  were  stripping  him,  when" 

and  heaving  three  or  four  short  convulsive  sobs,  she 
again  swooned.  Mrs. ,  the  lady  of  the  house  (the  sis- 
ter-in-law of  Miss  ,  as  I  think  I  have  mentioned), 

could  endure  the  distressing  scene  no  longer,  and  was 
carried  out  of  the  room,  fainting,  in  the  arms  of  her  hus- 
band.    With  great  difficulty,  we  succeeded  in  restoring 

Miss once  more  to  consciousness ;  but  the  frequency 

and  duration  of  her  relapses  began  seriously  to  alarm  me. 
The  spirit,  being  brought  so  often  to  the  brink,  might  at 
last  suddenly  flit  ofif  into  eternity  without  any  one's  be- 
ing aware  of  it.  I,  of  course,  did  all  that  my  professional 
knowledge  and  experience  suggested ;  and,  after  express- 
ing my  readiness  to  remain  all  night  in  the  house,  in  the 

event  of  any  sudden  alteration  in  Miss for  the  worse, 

I  took  my  departure,  promising  to  call  very  early  in  the 

morning.     Before  leaving,  Mr.  had  acquainted  me 

with  all  the  particulars  above  related ;  and,  as  I  rode 
home,  I  could  not  help  feeling  the  liveliest  curiosity,  min- 
gled with  the  most  intense  sympathy  for  the  unfortunate 
sufferer,  to  see  whether  the  corroborating  event  would 
stamp  the  present  as  one  of  those  extraordinary  occur- 
rences, which  occasionally  "come  o'er  us  like  a  summer 
cloud,"  astonishing  and  perplexing  every  one. 

The  next  morning,  about  nine  o'clock,  I  was  again  at 

Miss 's  bedside.    She  was  nearly  in  the  same  state  as 

that  in  which  I  had  left  her  the  preceding  evening — only 
feebler,  and  almost  continually  stupified.  She  seemed, 
as  it  were,  stunned  with  some  severe  but  invisible 
stroke.  She  said  scarcely  anything,  but  often  ut- 
tered a  low,  moaning,  indistinct  sound,  and  whispered,  at 
intervals,  "Yes — shortly,  Charles,  shortly — to-morrow." 
There  was  no  rousing  her  by  conversation ;  she  noticed 
no  one,  and  would  answer  no  questions.    I  suggested  the 


98  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

propriety  of  calling  in  additional  medical  assistance ;  and 
in  the  evening,  met  two  eminent  brother  physicians  in 
consultation  at  her  bedside.  We  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  she  was  sinking  rapidly,  and  that,  unless  some  mir- 
acle intervened  to  restore  her  energies,  she  would  con- 
tinue with  us  but  a  very  little  longer.  After  my  brother 
physicians  had  left,  I  returned  to  the  sick-chamber,  and 

sat  by  Miss  's  bedside  for  more  than  an  hour.     My 

feelings  were  much  agitated  at  witnessing  her  singular 
and  affecting  situation.  There  was  such  a  sweet  and  sor- 
rowful expression  about  her  pallid  features,  deepening 
occasionally,  into  such  hopelessness  of  heart-broken  an- 
guish, as  no  one  could  contemplate  without  deep  emo- 
tion. There  was,  besides,  something  mysterious  and 
awing — something  of  what  in  Scotland  is  called  second 
sight — in  the  circumstances  which  had  occasioned  her 
illness. 

"Gone — gone !"  she  murmured,  with  closed  eyes,  while 
I  was  sitting  and  gazing  in  silence  on  her ;  "gone — and  in 
glory !  I  shall  see  the  young  conqueror — I  shall !  How 
lie  will  love  me !  Ah,  I  recollect,"  she  continued,  after  a 
long  interval,  "it  was  'The  Banks  of  Allan  Water'  those 
cruel  people  made  me  sing — and  my  heart  breaking  the 
while ! — what  was  the  verse  I  was  singing  when  I  saw" — 
she  shuddered — "oh ! — this — 

For  his  bride,  a  soldier  sought  her, 

And  a  winning  tongue  had  he — 
On  the  banks  of  Allan  Water 

None  so  gay  as  she! 
But  the  summer  grief  had  brought  her. 

And  the  soldier — false  was  he — 

Oh,  no,  no,  never — Charles — my  poor  murdered  Charles 
— never !"  she  groaned ;  and  spoke  no  more  that  night. 
She  continued  utterly  deaf  to  all  that  was  said  in  the  way 
of  sympathy  or  remonstrance ;  and,  if  her  lips  moved  at 
all,  it  was  only  to  utter  faintly  some  such  words  as  "Oh, 
let  me — let  me  leave  in  peace."  During  the  two  next  days 
she  continued  drooping  rapidly.  The  only  circumstance 
about  her  demeanor  particularly  noticed,  was  that  she 
once  moved  her  hands  for  a  moment  over  the  counter- 


THE  DIARY   OF  A   LATE  PHYSICIAN  99 

pane  as  though  she  were  playing  the  piano — a  sudden 
flush  overspread  her  features — her  eyes  stared,  as  though 
she  was  startled  by  the  appearance  of  some  phantom  or 
other,  and  she  gasped,  "There,  there!" — after  which  she 
relapsed  into  her  former  state  of  stupor. 

Now,  will  it  be  credited  that,  on  the  fourth  morning 

of  Miss 's  illness,  a  letter  was  received  from  Paris  by 

her  family,  with  a  black  seal,  and  franked  by  the  noble  i 

colonel  of  the  regiment  in  which  Charles had  served, 

communicating  the  melancholy  intelligence  that  the 
young  captain  had  fallen  towards  the  close  of  the  battle 
of  Waterloo ;  for,  while  in  the  act  of  charging  at  the  head 
of  his  corps,  a  French  cavalry  officer  shot  him  with  his 
pistol  "right  through  the  heart!"  The  whole  family,  with 
all  their  acquaintance,  were  unutterably  shocked  at  the 
news,  and  almost  petrified  with  amazement  at  the  strange 
corroboration  of  Miss  's  prediction.  How  to  com- 
municate it  to  the  poor  suiiferer  was  now  a  serious  ques- 
tion ;  or  whether  to  communicate  it  at  all  at  present.  The 
family,  at  last  considering  that  it  would  be  unjustifiable 
in  them  any  longer  to  withhold  the  intelligence,  intrusted 
the  painful  duty  to  me.  I  therefore  repaired  to  her  bed- 
side alone,  in  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  the  letter 
had  been  received ;  that  evening  was  the  last  of  her  life ! 
1  sat  down  in  my  usual  place  beside  her,  and  her  pulse, 
countenance,  breathing,  cold  extremities,  together  with 
the  fact  that  she  had  taken  no  nourishment  whatever 
since  she  had  been  laid  on  her  bed,  convinced  me  that  the 
poor  girl's  sufferings  were  soon  to  terminate.  I  was  at  a 
loss  for  a  length  of  time,  how  to  break  the  oppressive 
silence.  Observing,  however,  her  fading  eyes  fixed  on 
me,  I  determined,  as  it  were  accidentally,  to  attract  them 
to  the  fatal  letter  which  I  then  held  in  my  hand.  After  a 
while  she  observed  it ;  her  eye  suddenly  settled  on  the 
ample  coroneted  seal,  and  the  sight  operated  something 
like  an  electric  shock.  She  seemed  struggling  to  speak, 
but  in  vain.  I  now  wished  to  Heaven  I  had  never  agreed 
to  undertake  the  duty  which  had  been  imposed  upon  me. 
I  opened  the  letter,  and  looking  steadfastly  at  her,  said, 


100  THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

in  as  soothing  tones  as  my  agitation  could  command — 
"My  dear  girl — now,  don't  be  alarmed,  or  I  shall  not  tell 
you  what  I  was  going  to  tell  you." — She  trembled,  and 
her  sensibilities  seemed  suddenly  restored ;  for  her  eye 
assumed  an  expression  of  alarmed  intelligence,  and  her 
lips  moved  about  like  those  of  a  person  who  feels  them 
parched  with  agitation,  and  endeavors  to  moisten  them. 
"This  letter  has  been  received  to-day  from  Paris,"  I  con- 
tinued ;  "it  is  from  Colonel ,  and  brings  word — that 

— that — that" — I  felt  suddenly  choked,  and  could  not 
bring  out  the  words. 

"That  my  Charles  is  dead — I  know  it.     Did  I  not  tell 

you  so?"  said  Miss  ,  interrupting  me,  with  as  clear 

and  distinct  a  tone  of  voice  as  she  ever  had  in  her  life.  I 
felt  confounded.  Had  the  unexpected  operation  of  the 
news  I  brought  been  able  to  dissolve  the  spell  which  had 
withered  her  mental  energies,  and  afford  promise  of  her 
restoration  to  health? 

Has  the  reader  ever  watched  a  candle,  which  is  flicker- 
ing and  expiring  in  its  socket,  suddenly  shoot  up  into  an 
instantaneous  brilliance,  and  then  be  utterly  extin- 
guished?   I  soon  saw  it  was  thus  with  poor  Miss  . 

All  the  expiring  energies  of  her  soul  were  suddenly  col- 
lected to  receive  this  corroboration  of  her  vision — if  such 
it  may  be  called — and  then  she  would. 

Like  a  lily  drooping, 
Bow  her  head  and  die. 

To  return :  She  begged  me,  in  a  faltering  voice,  to  read 
her  all  the  letter.  She  listened  with  closed  eyes,  and 
made  no  remark  when  I  had  concluded.     After  a  long 

pause,  I  exclaimed — "God  be  praised,  my  dear  Miss , 

that  you  have  been  able  to  receive  this  dreadful  news  so 
firmly!" 

"Doctor,  tell  me,  have  you  no  medicine  that  could 
make  me  weep?  Oh,  give  it  me,  give  it  me !  It  would  re- 
lieve me,  for  I  feel  a  mountain  on  my  breast — it  is  crush- 
ing me,"  she  replied  feebly,  uttering  the  words  at  long 
intervals.    Pressing  her  hand  in  mine,  I  begged  hpr  to  be 


THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  101 

calm,  and  the  oppression  would  soon  disappear.  "Oh — 
oh — oh,  that  I  could  weep,  doctor!"  She  whispered  some- 
thing else,  but  inaudibly.  I  pi.t'  'my  'jar  clode'  to  her 
mouth,  and  distinguished  souieth-ing:  like  the  words — 
"Jane! — I  am — call  her — hush"— "accompcinied  with  a 
faint,  fluttering,  gurgling  sound.  Alas !  I  too  well  under- 
stood it !  With  much  trepidation  I  ordered  the  nurse  to 
summon  the  family  into  the  room  instantly.  Her  sister 
Jane  was  the  first  that  entered,  her  eyes  swollen  with 
weeping,  and  seemingly  half  suffocated  with  the  effort  to 
conceal  her  emotions. 

"Oh,  my  darling,  precious — my  own  sister  Anne!"  she 
sobbed,  and  knelt  down  at  the  bedside,  flinging  her  arms 
round  her  sister's  neck,  kissing  the  gentle  sufferer's 
cheeks  and  mouth. 

"Anne! — love! — darling! — don't  you  know  me?"  she 
groaned,  kissing  her  forehead  repeatedly.  Could  I  help 
weeping?  All  who  had  entered  were  standing  around  the 
bed,  sobbing,  and  in  tears.  I  kept  my  fingers  at  the  wrist 
of  the  dying  sufferer;  but  could  not  feel  whether  or  not 
the  pulse  beat,  which,  however,  I  attributed  to  my  own 
agitation. 

"Speak — speak — my  darling  Anne! — speak  to  me;  I 
am  your  poor  sister  Jane!"  sobbed  the  agonized  girl,  con- 
tinuing fondly  kissing  her  sister's  cold  lips  and  forehead. 
She  suddenly  started — exclaimed,  "O  God !  she's  dead !" 
and  sank  instantly  senseless  on  the  floor.  Alas!  alas!  it 
was  too  true :  my  sweet  and  broken-hearted  patient  was 
no  more ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 


CONSUMPTION^ 

ONSUMPTION  !— Terrible,  insatiable  tyrant  I— 
who  can  arrest  thy  progress,  or  number  thy  vic- 
tims? Why  dost  thou  attack  almost  exclusively 
the  fairest  and  loveliest  of  our  species?  Why 
select  blooming  and  beautiful  youth,  instead  of  haggard 
and  exhausted  age?  Why  strike  down  those  who  are 
bounding  blithely  from  the  starting-post  of  life,  rather 
than  the  decrepit  beings  tottering  towards  its  goal?  By 
what  infernal  subtlety  hast  thou  contrived  hitherto  to 
baffle  the  profoundest  skill  of  science,  to  frustrate  utterly 
the  uses  of  experience,  and  disclose  thyself  only  when 
thou  hast  irretrievably  secured  thy  victim,  and  thy  fangs 
are  crimsoned  with  its  blood?  Destroying  angel!  why 
are  thou  commissioned  thus  to  smite  down  the  first-born 
of  agonized  humanity?  What  are  the  strange  purposes 
of  Providence,  that  thus  letteth  thee  loose  upon  the  ob- 
jects of  its  infinite  goodness ! 

Alas !  how  many  aching  hearts  have  been  agitated  with 
these  unanswerable  questions,  and  how  many  myriads 
are  yet  to  be  wrung  and  tortured  by  them ! — Let  me  pro- 
ceed to  lay  before  the  reader  a  short  and  simple  statement 
of  one  of  the  many  cases  of  consumption,  and  all  its  at- 
tendant broken-heartedness,  with  which  a  tolerably  ex- 
tensive practice  has,  alas !  crowded  my  memory.  The 
one  immediately  following  has  been  selected,  because  it 
seemed  to  me,  though  destitute  of  varied  and  stirring  in- 
cident, calculated,  on  many  accounts,  to  excite  peculiar 
interest  and  sympathy.  Possibly  there  are  a  few  who 
may  consider  the  ensuing  pages  pervaded  by  a  tone  of 
exaggeration.    Indeed,  it  is  not  so.    My  heart  has  really 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  103 

ached  under  the  task  of  recording  the  bitter,  premature 
fate  of  one  of  the  most  lovely  and  accomplished  young 
women  I  ever  knew;  and  the  vivid  recollection  of  her 
sufferings,  as  well  as  those  of  her  anguished  relatives, 
may  have  led  me  to  adopt  strong  language,  but  not 
strong  enough  adequately  to  express  my  feelings. 

Miss  Herbert  lost  both  her  father  and  mother  before 
she  had  attained  her  tenth  year;  and  was  solemnly  com- 
mitted by  each  to  the  care  of  her  uncle,  a  baronet,  who 
was  unmarried,  and,  through  disappointment  in  a  first  at- 
tachment, seemed  likely  to  continue  so  to  the  end  of  his 
life.  Two  years  after  his  brother's  death,  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  an  eminent  ofiEicial  situation  in  India,  as  the 
fortune  attached  to  his  baronetcy  had  suffered  severely 
from  the  extravagance  of  his  predecessors.  He  was  for 
some  time  at  a  loss  how  to  dispose  of  his  little  niece. 
Should  he  take  her  with  him  to  India,  accompanied  by  a 
first-rate  governess,  and  have  her  carefully  educated  un- 
der his  own  eye,  or  leave  her  behind  in  England,  at  one 
of  the  fashionable  boarding  schools,  and  trust  to  the  gen- 
eral surveillance  of  a  distant  female  relative?  He  de- 
cided on  the  former  course ;  and  accordingly,  very  shortly 
after  completing  her  twelfth  year,  this  little  blooming  ex- 
otic was  transplanted  to  the  scorching  soil,  and  destined 
"to  waste  its  sweetness"  on  the  sultry  air  of  India. 

A  more  delicate  and  lovely  little  creature  than  was 
Eliza  Herbert,  at  this  period,  cannot  be  conceived.  She 
was  the  only  bud  from  a  parent  stem  of  remarkable 
beauty;  but,  alas!  that  stem  was  suddenly  withered  by 
consumption.  Her  father  also,  fell  a  victim  to  the  fierce 
typhus  fever,  only  half  a  year  after  the  death  of  his 
wife.  Little  Eliza  Herbert  inherited,  with  her  mother's 
beauty,  her  constitutional  delicacy.  Her  figure  was  so 
slight,  that  it  almost  suggested  to  the  beholder  the  idea 
of  transparency ;  and  there  was  a  softness  and  languor 
in  her  azure  eyes,  beaming  through  their  long  silken 
lashes,  which  told  of  something  too  refined  for  humanity. 
Her  disposition  fully  comported  with  her  person  and 
habits — arch,  mild,  and  intelligent,  with  a  little  dash  of 


104  THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN 

pensiveness.  She  loved  the  shade  of  retirement.  If  she 
occasionally  flitted  for  a  moment  into  the  world,  its  glare 
and  uproar  seemed  almost  to  stun  her  gentle  spirit,  and 
fright  it  back  into  congenial  privacy.  She  was,  almost 
from  infancy,  devotedly  fond  of  reading;  and  sought, 
with  peculiar  avidity,  books  of  sentiment.  Her  gifted 
preceptress — one  of  the  most  amiable  and  refined  of 
women — soon  won  her  entire  confidence,  and  found  little 
difficulty  in  imparting  to  her  apt  pupil  all  the  stores  of 
her  own  superior  and  extensive  accomplishments.  Not  a 
day  passed  over  her  head,  that  did  not  find  Eliza  Her- 
bert riveted  more  firmly  in  the  hearts  of  all  who  came 
near  her,  from  her  doting  uncle  down  to  the  most  distant 
domestic.  Every  luxury  that  wealth  and  power  could 
procure,  was  of  course  always  at  her  command;  but  her 
own  innate  propriety  and  just  taste  prompted  her  to  pre- 
fer simplicity  in  all  things.  Flattery  of  all  kinds  she  ab- 
horred— and  forsook  the  house  of  a  rich  old  English  lady, 
who  once  told  her  to  her  face  she  was  a  beautiful  little 
angel !  In  short,  a  more  lovely  and  amiable  being  than 
Eliza  Herbert,  surely  never  adorned  the  ranks  of  hu- 
manity. The  only  fear  which  incessantly  haunted  those 
around  her,  and  kept  Sir in  a  feverish  flutter  of  ap- 
prehension every  day  of  his  life,  was,  that  his  niece  was, 
in  his  own  words,  "too  good — too  beautiful,  for  this 
world ,"  and  that  unseen  messengers  from  above  were 
already  flitting  around  her,  read}^  to  claim  her  suddenly 
for  the  skies.  He  has  often  described  to  me  his  feelings 
on  this  subject.  He  seemed  conscious  that  he  had  no 
right  to  reckon  on  the  continuance  of  her  life ;  he  felt, 
whenever  he  thought  of  her,  an  involuntary  apprehen- 
sion that  she  would,  at  no  distant  period,  suddenly  fade 
from  his  sight ;  he  was  afraid,  he  said,  to  let  out  the  whole 
of  his  heart's  affections  on  her.  Like  the  Oriental  mer- 
chant, who  trembles  while  freighting  "one  barque — one 
little  fragile  barque,"  with  the  dazzling  stores  of  his  im- 
mense all,  and  committing  it  to  the  capricious  dominion 

of  wind  and  waves ;  so  Sir often  declared,  that,  at 

the  period  I  am  alluding  to,  he  experienced  cruel  mis- 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  105 

givjngs,  that  if  he  embarkdd  the  whole  of  his  soul's  loves 
on  little  Eliza  Herbert,  they  were  fated  to  be  ship- 
wrecked. Yet  he  guarded  her  every  day  with  feelings 
which  soon  heightened  into  absolute  idolatry ! 

His  fond  anxieties  soon  suggested  to  him,  that  so  deli- 
cate and  fragile  a  being  as  his  niece,  supposing  for  a 
moment  the  existence  of  any  real  grounds  of  apprehen- 
sion that  her  constitution  bore  a  hereditary  taint,  could 
not  be  thrown  into  a  more  direct  path  for  her  grave  than 
in  India ;  that  any  latent  tendency  to  consumption  would 
be  quickened  and  developed  with  fatal  rapidity  in  the 
burning  atmosphere  she  was  then  breathing.  His  mind, 
once  thoroughly  suffused  with  alarms  of  this  sort,  could 
not  ever  afterwards  be  dispossessed  of  them ;  and  he  ac- 
cordingly determined  to  relinquish  his  situation  in  India, 
the  instant  he  should  have  realized  from  one  quarter  or 
another,  sufficient  to  enable  him  to  return  to  England,  and 
support  an  establishment  suitable  to  his  station  in  so- 
ciety. About  five  years  had  elapsed  since  his  arrival  in 
India,  during  which  he  had  contrived  to  save  a  large  por- 
tion of  his  very  ample  income,  when  news  reached  him 
that  a  considerable  fortune  had  fallen  to  him,  through 
the  death  of  a  remote  relative.  The  intelligence  made  him, 
comparatively,  a  happy  man.  He  instantly  set  on  foot 
arrangements  for  returning  to  England,  and  procuring 
the  immediate  appointment  of  his  successor. 

Unknown  to  his  niece,  about  a  year  after  his  arrival 

in  India  Sir  had  confidentially  consulted  the  most 

eminent  physician  on  the  spot.  In  obedience  to  the  in- 
junctions of  the  baronet.  Dr.  C was  in  the  habit  (5C 

dropping  in  frequently,  as  if  accidentally,  to  dinner,  for 
the  purpose  of  marking  Miss  Herbert's  demeanor,  and 
ascertaining  whether  there  was,  so  to  speak,  the  very 
faintest  adumbration  of  any  consumptive  tendency.  But 
no — his  quick  and  practiced  eye  detected  no  morbid  in- 
dications ;  and  he  repeatedly  gladdened  the  baronet's 
heart,  by  assuring  him  that,  for  any  present  evidence  to 
the  contrary,  little  Miss  Herbert  bade  as  fair  for  long 
■^.nd  healthy  life  as  any  woman  breathing,  especially  if 


106  THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN 

she  soon  returned  to  the  more  salubrious  climate  of 
England.  Though  Dr.  C had  never  spoken  profes- 
sionally to  her,  Eliza  Herbert  was  too  quick  and  shrewd 
an  observer  to  continue  unapprised  of  the  object  of  his 
frequent  visits  to  her  uncle's  house.  She  had  not  failed 
to  notice  his  searching  glances;  and  knew  well  that  he 
watched  almost  every  mouthful  of  food  she  ate,  and 
scrutinized  all  her  movements.  He  had  once  also  ven- 
tured to  feel  her  pulse,  in  a  half-in-earnest  half-in-joke 
manner,  and  put  one  or  two  questions  to  the  governess 
about  Miss  Herbert's  general  habits,  which  that  good, 
easy,  communicative  creature  unfortunately  told  her  in- 
quisitive little  pupil ! 

Now,  there  are  few  things  more  alarming  and  irritat- 
ing to  young  people,  even  if  consciously  enjoying  the 
most  robust  health,  than  suddenly  to  find  that  they  have 
long  been,  and  still  are,  the  objects  of  anxious  medical 
surveillance.  They  begin  naturally  to  suspect  that  there 
must  be  very  good  reason  for  it — and  especially  in 
the  case  of  nervous,  irritable  temperaments ;  their 
peace  of  mind  is  thenceforward  destroyed  by  tor- 
turing apprehensions  that  they  are  the  doomed 
victims  of  some  insidious,  incurable  malady.  Of 
this  I  have  known  very  many  illustrations.  Sir 
,  also,  was  aware  of  its  ill  consequences,  and  en- 
deavored to  avert  even  the  shadow  of  a  suspicion  from 

his  niece's  mind  as  to  the  real  object  of  Dr.  C 's  visits, 

by  formally  introducing  him,  from  the  first,  as  one  of  his 
own  intimate  friends.  He  therefore  flattered  himself  that 
his  niece  was  profoundly  ignorant  of  the  existence  of 
his  anxieties  concerning  her  health ;  and  was  not  a  little 
startled  one  morning  by  Miss  Herbert's  abruptly  enter- 
ing his  study,  and,  pale  with  ill-disguised  anxiety,  in- 
quiring if  there  was  "anything  the  matter  with  her?"  Was 
she  unconsciously  falling  into  a  decline?  she  asked, 
almost  in  so  many  words.  Her  uncle  was  so  confounded 
by  the  suddenness  of  the  afifair  that  he  lost  his  presence 
of  mind,  changed  color  a  little,  and  with  a  consciously 
embarrassed  air  assured  her  that  it  was  "no  such  thing," 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  107 

"quite  a  mistake," — a  "very  ridiculous  one" — a  "childish 
whim,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  He  was  so  very  earnest  and  ener- 
getic in  his  assurances  that  there  was  no  earthly  ground 
for  apprehension,  and,  in  short,  concealed  his  alarm  so 
clumsily,  that  his  poor  niece,  though  she  left  him  with 
a  kiss  and  a  smile,  and  affected  to  be  satisfied,  retired  to 
her  own  room,  and  from  that  melancholy  moment  re- 
signed herself  to  her  grave.  Of  this,  she  herself,  three 
years  subsequently,  in  England,  assured  me.  She  never 
afterwards  recovered  that  gentle  buoyancy  and  elasticity 
of  spirits  which  made  her  burst  upon  her  few  friends  and 
acquaintances  like  a  little  lively  sunbeam  of  cheerfulness 
and  gaiety.  She  felt  perpetually  haunted  by  gloomy 
though  vague  suspicions,  that  there  was  something  radi- 
cally wrong  in  her  constitution — that  it  was  from  her 
birth  sown  with  the  seeds  of  death — and  that  no  earthly 
power  could  eradicate  them.  Though  she  resigned  her- 
self to  the  dominion  of  such  harrassing  thoughts  as  these 
while  alone,  and  even  shed  tears  abundantly,  she  suc- 
ceeded in  banishing,  to  a  great  extent,  her  uncle's  dis- 
quietude, by  assuming  even  greater  gaiety  of  demeanor 
than  before.  The  baronet  took  occasion  to  mention  the 
little  incident  above  related  to  Dr.  C ,  and  was  ex- 
cessively agitated  to  see  the  physician  assume  a  very 
serious  air. 

"This  may  be  attended  with  more  mischief  than  you 

are  aware  of,  Sir ,"  he  replied.    "I  feel  it  my  duty  to 

tell  you  how  miserably  unfortunate  for  her  it  is,  that 
Miss  Herbert  has  at  last  detected  your  restless  uneasi- 
ness about  her  health,  and  the  means  you  have  taken  to 
watch  her  constitution.  Henceforth  she  may  appear  sat- 
isfied— but  mark  me  if  she  can  ever  forget  it.  You  will 
find  her  fall  frequently  into  momentary  fits  of  absence 
and  thoughtfulness.  She  will  brood  over  it,"  continued 
Dr.  C . 

"Why,  good  God,  doctor,"  replied  the  baronet,  "what's 
the  use  of  frightening  one  thus?  Do  you  think  my  niece 
is  the  first  girl  who  has  known  that  her  friends  are  anx- 
ious about  her  health?    If  she  is  really,  as  you  tell  her 


108  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

free  from  disease — why  in  the  name  of  common  sense, 
can  she  fancy  herself  into  a  consumption?" 

"No,  no,  Sir ;  but  incessant  alarm  may  accelerate 

the  evil  you  dread,  and  predispose  her  to  sink — her  ener- 
gies to  droop — under  the  blow,  however  lightly  it  may 
at  first  fall,  which  has  been  so  long  impending.  And, 
besides.  Sir  ,  I  did  not  say  she  was  free  from  dis- 
ease, but  only  that  I  had  not  discerned  any  present  symp- 
toms of  disease." 

"Oh,  stuff,  stuff,  doctor!  nonsense!"  muttered  the  bar- 
onet, rising  and  pacing  the  room  with  excessive  agitation. 
"Can't  the  girl  be  laughed  out  of  her  fears?" 

It  may  be  easily  believed  that  Sir spent  every  fu- 
ture moment  of  his  stay  in  India  in  an  agony  of  appre- 
hension. His  fears  exaggerated  the  slightest  indication 
of  his  niece's  temporary  indisposition  into  a  symptom  of 
consumption.  Anything  like  a  cough  from  her  would 
send  him  to  a  pillow  of  thorns ;  and  her  occasional  re- 
fusal of  food  at  meal-times  was  received  with  undisguised 
trepidation  on  the  part  of  her  uncle.  If  he  overtook  her 
at  a  distance,  walking  out  with  her  governess,  he  would 
follow  unperceived,  and  strain  his  eyesight  with  endeav- 
oring to  detect  anything  like  feebleness  in  her  gait. 
These  incessant,  and  very  natural  anxieties  about  the 
only  being  he  loved  in  the  world,  enhanced  by  his  ef- 
forts to.  conceal  them,  sensibly  impaired  his  own  health 
and  spirits.  He  grew  fretful  and  irritable  in  his  demean- 
or towards  every  member  of  his  establishment,  and 
could  not  completely  fix  his  thoughts  for  the  transaction 
of  his  important  official  business. 

This  may  be  thought  an  overstrained  representation 

of  Sir 's  state  of  mind  respecting  his  niece ;  but  by 

none  except  a  young,  thoughtless,  or  heartless  reader. 
Let  the  thousand — the  million — heart-wrung  parents, 
who  have  mourned,  and  are  now  mourning,  over  their 
consumptive  offspring — let  them,  I  say,  echo  the  truth 
of  the  sentiments  I  am  expressing.  Let  those  whose  bit- 
ter fate  it  is  to  see 

The  barque,  so  richly  freighted  with  their  love. 


THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  109 

gradually  sinking,  shipwrecked  before  their  very  eyes — 
let  them  say,  whether  the  pen  or  tongue  of  man  can  fur- 
nish adequate  words  to  give  expression  to  their  anguished 
feelings ! 

Eighteen  years  of  age — within  a  trifle — was  Miss  Her- 
bert, when  she  again  set  foot  on  her  native  land,  and  the 
eyes  and  heart  of  her  idolizing  uncle  leaped  for  joy  to  see 
her  augmented  health  and  loveliness  which  he  fondly 
flattered  himself  might  now  be  destined  to 

Grow  with  her  growth,  and  strengthen  with  her  strength. 

The  voyage — though  long  and  monotonous  as  usual — 
with  its  fresh  breezy  balminess,  had  given  an  impetus  to 
her  animal  spirits ;  and  as  her  slight  figure  stepped  down 
the  side  of  the  gloomy  colossal  Indiaman  which  had 
brought  her  across  the  seas,  her  blue  eye  was  bright  as 
that  of  a  seraph,  her  beauteous  cheeks  glowed  with  a 
soft  and  rich  crimson,  and  there  was  a  lightness,  ease, 
and  elasticity  in  her  movements,  as  she  tripped  the  short 
distance  between  the  vessel  and  the  carriage,  which  was 
in  waiting  to  convey  them  to  town,  that  filled  her  doting 
uncle  with  feelings  of  almost  frenzied  joy. 

"God  Almighty  bless  thee,  my  darling! — Bless  thee — 
bless  thee  for  ever,  my  pride !  my  jewel — Long  and  happy 
be  thy  life  in  merry  England !"  sobbed  the  baronet,  fold- 
ing her  almost  convulsively  in  his  arms,  as  soon  as  they 
were  seated  in  the  carriage,  and  giving  her  the  first  kiss 
of  welcome  to  her  native  shores.  The  second  day  after 
they  were  established  at  one  of  the  hotels,  while  Miss 
Herbert  and  her  governess   were   riding  the   round   of 

fashionable  shopping.  Sir  drove  alone  to  the  late 

Dr.  Baillie.  In  a  long  interview  (they  were  personal 
friends),  he  communicated  all  his  distressing  apprehen- 
sions about  his  niece's  state  of  health,  imploring  him  to 
say  whether  he  had  any  real  cause  of  alarm  whatever — 
immediate  or  prospective — and  what  course  and  plan  of 
life  he  would  recommend  for  the  future.  Dr.  Baillie,  after 
many  and  minute  inquiries,  contented  himself  with  say- 
ing that  he  saw  no  grounds  for  present  apprehensions. 


110  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

It  certainly  did  sometimes  happen,  he  said,  that  a  deli- 
cate daughter  of  a  consumptive  parent  inherited  her 
mother's  tendencies  to  disease.  As  for  her  future  life 
and  habits,  there  was  not  the  slightest  occasion  for  medi- 
cine of  any  kind;  she  must  live  almost  entirely  in  the 
country,  take  plenty  of  fresh  dry  air  and  exercise —  espec- 
ially eschew  late  hours  and  company;  and  he  hinted, 
finally,  the  advantages  and  almost  necessity,  of  an  early 
matrimonial  engagement. 

It  need  hardly  be  said,  that  Sir  resolved  most 

religiously  to  follow  this  advice  to  the  letter. 

"I'll  come  and  dine  with  you  in  Dover  Street,  at  seven 
to-day,"  said  Dr.  Baillie,  "and  make  my  own  observa- 
tions." 

"Thank  you,  doctor — but — but  we  dine  out  to-day," 
muttered  the  baronet  rather  faintly,  adding  inwardly, 
"No,  no! — no  more  medical  espionage — no,  no!" 

Sir  purchased  a  very  beautiful  mansion,  which 

then  happened  to  be  for  sale,  situated  within  ten  or 
twelve  miles  of  London ;  and  thither  he  removed,  as  soon 
as  ever  the  preliminary  arrangements  could  be  completed. 

The  shrine,  and  its  divinity,  were  worthy  of  each  other. 
Hall  was  one  of  the  most  charming  picturesque  resi- 
dences in  the  county.  It  was  a  fine  antique  semi-Gothic 
structure,  almost  obscured  from  sight  in  the  profound 
gloom  of  forest  shade.  The  delicious  velvet  greensward, 
spread  immediately  in  front  of  the  house,  seemed  formed 
for  the  gentle  footsteps  of  Miss  Herbert.  When  you 
went  there,  if  you  looked  carefully  about,  you  might  dis- 
cover a  little  white  tuft  glistening  on  some  part  or  other 
of  the  "smooth  soft-shaven  lawn."  It  was  her  pet  lamb — 
sweet  emblem  of  its  owner's  innocence! — cropping  the 
crisp  and  rich  herbage.  Little  thing!  It  would  scarcely 
submit  to  be  fondled  by  any  hand  but  that  of  its  indul- 
gent mistress.  She,  also,  might  occasionally  be  seen  there, 
wandering  thoughtfully  along,  with  a  book  in  her  hand — 
Tasso,probably,  or  Dante — and  her  loose,  light  hair,  stray- 
ing from  beneath  a  gipsy  bonnet,  commingling  in  pleas- 
ant contrast  with  a  saffron-colored  ribbon.     Her  uncle 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  111 

would  sit  for  an  hour  together,  at  a  corner  of  his  study 
window,  overlooking  the  lawn,  and  never  remove  his 
eyes  from  the  figure  of  his  fair  niece. 

Aliss  Herbert  was  soon  talked  of  everywhere  in  the 
neighborhood,  as  the  pride  of  the  place — the  star  of 
the  county.  She  budded  forth  almost  visibly ;  and  though 
her  exquisite  form  was  developing  daily,  till  her  matured 
womanly  proportions  seemed  to  have  been  cast  in  the 
mould  of  Venus  de  Medici,  though  on  a  scale  of  more 
slenderness  and  delicacy,  it  was,  nevertheless  outstripped 
by  the  precocious  expanding  of  her  intellect.  The  sym- 
pathies of  her  soul  were  attuned  to  the  deepest  and  most 
refined  sentiment.  She  was  passionately  fond  of  poetry; 
and  never  wandered  without  the  sphere  of  what  was  first- 
rate.  Dante  and  Milton  were  her  constant  companions 
by  day  and  night ;  and  it  was  a  treat  to  hear  the  melli- 
fluous cadences  of  the  former  uttered  by  the  soft  and  rich 
voice  of  Miss  Herbert.  She  could  not  more  satisfactorily 
evidence  her  profound  appreciation  of  the  true  spirit  of 
poetry  than  by  her  almost  idolatrous  admiration  of  the 
kindred  genius  of  Handel  and  Mozart.  She  was  scarcely 
ever  known  to  play  any  other  music  than  theirs ;  she 
would  listen  to  none  but  the  "mighty  voices  of  those  dim 
spirits."  And  then  she  was  the  most  amiable  and  char- 
itable creature  that  sure  ever  trode  the  earth !  How  many 
colds — slight,  to  be  sure,  and  evanescent — had  she 
caught,  and  how  many  rebukes  from  the  alarmed  fond- 
ness of  her  uncle  had  she  suffered  in  consequence  through 
her  frequent  visits,  in  all  weathers,  to  the  cottages  of  the 
poor  and  sick! — "you  are  describing  an  ideal  being,  and 
investing  it  with  all  the  graces  and  virtues — one  that 
never  really  existed !"  perhaps  exclaims  one  of  my  read- 
ers. There  are  not  a  few  now  living,  who  could  an- 
swer for  the  truth  of  my  poor  and  faint  description,  with 
anguish  and  regret.  Frequently  on  seeing  such  instances 
of  precocious  development  of  the  powers  of  both  mind 
and  body,  the  curt  and  forcible  expression  of  Quintilian 
has  occurred  to  my  mind  with  painful  force — "Quod  ob- 
servatum    fere    est,    celerius  occidere    fcstinatam     maturita- 


112  THE   DIARY   OF  A    LATE   PHYSICIAN 

/cm,"*  aptly  rendered  by  the  English  proverb,  "Soon 
ripe,  soon  rotten." 

The  latter  part  of  Dr.  Baillie's  advice  was  anxiously 

kept  in  view  by  Sir ;  and  soon  after  Miss  Herbert 

had  completed  her  twentieth  year,  he  had  the  satisfaction 

of  seeing  her  encourage  the  attentions  of  a  Captain , 

the  third  son  of  a  neighboring  nobleman.  He  was  a 
remarkably  fine  and  handsome  young  man,  of  a  very  su- 
perior spirit,  and  fully  capable  of  appreciating  the  value 
of  her  whose  hand  he  sought.  Sir was  delighted,  al- 
most to  ecstasy,  when  he  extracted  from  the  trembling, 

blushing  girl,  a  confession  that  Captain  's  company 

was  anything  but  disagreeable  to  her.  The  young  mili- 
tary hero  was,  of  course,  soon  recognised  as  her  suitor; 
and  a  handsome  couple,  people  said,  they  would  make. 
Miss  Herbert's  health  seemed  more  robust,  and  her  spir- 
its more  buoyant,  than  ever.  How,  indeed,  could  it  be 
otherwise,  when  she  was  daily  riding  in  an  open  carriage, 
or  on  horseback,  over  a  fine  breezy,  champaign  country, 
by  the  side  of  the  gay,  handsome,  fascinating  Captain 
, ? 

The  baronet  was  sitting  one  morning  in  his  study,  hav- 
ing the  day  before  returned  from  a  month's  visit  to  some 
friends  in  Ireland,  and  engaged  with  some  important  let- 
ters from  India,  when  Miss  B ,  his  niece's  governess, 

sent  a  message,  requesting  to  speak  in  private  with  him. 
When  she  entered,  her  embarrassed,  and  somewhat  flur- 
ried manner,  not  a  little  surprised  Sir  = . 

"How  is  Eliza? — How  is  Eliza,  Miss  B ?"  he  in- 
quired hastily,  laying  aside  his  reading  glasses.  "Very 
well,"  she  replied — "very;"  and,  after  a  little  fencing 
about  the  necessity  of  making  allowance  for  exagger- 
ation of  alarm  and  anxiety,  she  proceeded  to  inform  him 
that  Miss  Herbert  had  latterly  passed  restless  nights — 
that  her  sleep  was  not  unfrequently  broken  by  a  cough, 
a  sort  of  faint  churchyard  cough,  she  said  it  seemed — 
which  had  not  been  noticed  for  some  time,  till  it  was 

*De.   Inst.  Orat.  lib.  iv.     In  proemio. 


THE   DIARY    OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  113 

accompanied  by  other  symptoms. — "Gracious  God! 
madam,  how  was  this  not  told  me  before? — why — why 
did  you  not  write  to  me  in  Ireland  about  it?"    inquired 

Sir  ,  with  excessive  trepidation.     He  could  scarcely 

sit  in  his  chair  and  grew  very  pale  ;  while  Miss  B ,  her- 
self equally  agitated,  went  on  to  mention  profuse  night 
sweats — a  disinclination  for  food — exhaustion  from  the 
slightest  exercise — a  feverishness  every  evening — and  a 
faint  hectic  flush 

"Oh,  plague-spot!"  groaned  the  baronet,  almost 
choked,  letting  fall  his  reading-glasses.  He  tottered  to- 
wards the  bell,  and  the  valet  was  directed  to  order  the 
carriage  for  town  immediately.  "What — what  possible 
excuse  can  I  devise  for  bringing  Dr.  Baillie  here?"  said  he 
to  the  governess,  as  he  was  drawing  on  his  gloves.  "Well 
— well — I'll  leave  it  to  you — do  what  you  can.  For  God's 
sake,  madam,  prepare  her  to  see  him  somehow  or  an- 
other, for  the  doctor  and  I  shall  certainly  be  here  to- 
gether this  evening. — Oh,  say  I'm  called  up  to  town  on 
sudden  business,  and  thought  I  might  as  well  bring  him 
on  with  me,  as  he  is  visiting  a  patient  in  the  neighbor- 
hood— Oh!  anything,  madam — anything!" — He  hardly 
knew  what  he  was  saying. 

Dr.  Baillie,  however,  could  not  come,  being  himself  at 
Brighton,  an  invalid,  and  the  baronet  was  therefore 
pleased,  though  with  ill-disguised  chagrin,  to  summon 
me  to  supply  his  place.  On  the  way  down,  he  put  me 
in  possession  of  most  of  the  facts  above  narrated.  He 
implored  me,  in  tenderness  to  his  agitated  feelings,  to 
summon  all  the  tact  I  had  ever  acquired,  and  alarm  the 
object  of  my  visit  as  little  as  possible.  I  was  especially 
to  guard  against  appearing  to  know  too  much ;  I  was  to 
beat  about  the  bush — to  extract  her  symptoms  gradually, 
etc.  I  never  saw  the  fondest,  the  most  doting  father 
or  mother,  more  agitated  about  an  only  child,  than  was 

Sir about  his  niece.    He  protested  that  he  could  not 

survive  her  death — that  she  was  the  only  prop  and  pride 
of  his  declining  years — and  that  he  must  fall  if  he  lost 
her ;  and  made  use  of  many  similar  expressions.  It  was  in 


114  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

vain  that  I  besought  him  not  to  allow  himself  to  be  carried 
so  much  away  by  his  fears.  He  must  let  me  see  her,  and 
have  an  opportunity  of  judging  whether  there  were  any 
real  cause  of  alarm,  I  said ;  and  he  might  rely  on  my  hon- 
or as  a  gentleman,  that  I  would  be  frank  and  candid 
with  him,  to  the  very  utmost — I  would  tell  him  the  worst. 
I  reminded  him  of  the  possibility  that  the  symptoms  he 
mentioned  might  not  really  exist;  that  they  might  have 
been  seen  by  Miss  B through  the  distorting  and  mag- 
nifying medium  of  apprehension;  and  that,  even  if  they 
did  really  exist — why,  that — that  they  were  not  always 
the  precursors  of  consumption,  I  stammered  against  my 
own  convictions.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  emo- 
tions excited  in  the  baronet,  by  my  simply  uttering  the 
word  "consumption."  He  said  it  stabbed  him  to  the 
heart ! 

On  arriving  at Hall,  the  baronet  and  I  instantly 

repaired  to  the  drawing-room,  where  Miss  Herbert  and 
her  governess  were  sitting  at  tea.  The  sad  sunlight  of 
September  shone  through  the  Gothic  window  near  which 
they  were  sitting.  Miss  Herbert  was  dressed  in  white, 
and  looked  really  dazzlingly  beautiful ;  but  the  first  tran- 
sient glance  warned  me  that  the  worst  might  be  appre- 
hended. I  had  that  very  morning  been  at  the  bedside  of 
a  dying  young  lady,  a  martyr  to  that  very  disease,  which 
commences  by  investing  its  victim  with  a  tenfold  splen- 
dor of  personal  beauty,  to  be  compensated  for  by  sud- 
den and  rapid  decay !  Miss  Herbert's  eyes  were  lustrous 
as  diamonds ;  and  the  complexion  of  her  cheeks,  pure 
and  fair  as  that  of  the  lily,  was  surmounted  with  an  in- 
tense circumscribed  crimson  flush — alas,  alas !  the  very 
plague-spot  of  hectic — of  consumption.  She  saluted  me 
silently,  and  her  eyes  glanced  hurriedly  from  me  to  her 
uncle,  and  from  him  again  to  me.  His  disordered  air  de- 
fied disguise. 

She  was  evidently  apprised  of  my  coming,  as  well  as  of 
the  occasion  of  my  visit.  Indeed  there  was  a  visible  em- 
barrassment about  all  four  of  us,  which  I  felt  I  was  ex- 
pected to  dissipate,  by  introducing  indifferent  topics  of 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  115 

conversation.  This  I  attempted,  but  with  little  success. 
Miss  Herbert's  tea  was  before  her  on  a  little  ebony  stand, 
untouched ;  and  it  was  evidently  a  violent  effort  only 
that  enabled  her  to  continue  in  the  room.  She  looked  re- 
peatedly at  Miss  B ,  as  though  she  wished  to  be  gone. 

After  about  half  an  hour's  time,  I  alluded  complimen- 
tarily  to  what  I  had  heard  of  her  performance  on  the 
piano.  She  smiled  coldly,  and  rather  contemptuously,  as 
though  she  saw  the  part  I  was  playing.  Nothing 
daunted,  however,  I  begged  her  to  favor  me  with  one 
of  Haydn's  sonatas ;  and  she  went  immediately  to  the 
piano,  and  played  what  I  asked — I  need  hardly  say,  ex- 
quisitely. Her  uncle  then  withdrew  for  the  alleged  pur- 
pose of  answering  a  letter,  as  had  been  arranged  be- 
tween us ;  and  I  was  left  alone  with  the  two  ladies.  I 
need  not  fatigue  the  reader  with  a  minute  description  of 
all  that  passed.  I  introduced  the  object  of  my  visit  as 
casually  and  as  gently  as  I  could,  and  succeeded  more 
easily  than  I  had  anticipated  in  quieting  her  alarms.  The 
answers  she  gave  to  my  questions  amply  corroborated 
the  truth  of  the  account  given  by  Miss  B to  the  bar- 
onet. Her  feverish,  accelerated  pulse,  also,  told  of  the  hot 
blighting  breathings  of  the  destroying  angel,  who  was  al- 
ready hovering  close  around  his  victim.  I  was  compelled 
to  smile,  with  an  assumed  air  of  gaiety  and  nonchalance, 
while  listening  to  the  poor  girl's  unconscious  disclosures 
of  various  little  matters,  which  amounted  to  infallible 
evidence  that  she  was  already  beyond  the  reach  of  medi- 
cine. I  bade  her  adieu,  complimenting  her  on  her  charm- 
ing looks,  and  expressing  my  delight  at  finding  so  little 
occasion  for  my  professional  services !  She  looked  at  me 
with  a  half-incredulous,  half-confiding  eye,  and  with 
much  girlish  simplicity  and  frankness,  put  her  hand  into 
mine,  thanking  me  for  dispersing  her  fears,  and  begging 
me  to  do  the  same  for  her  uncle.  I  afterwards  learned 
that,  as  soon  as  I  left  the  room,  she  burst  into  a  flood  of 
tears,  and  sighed  and  sobbed  all  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

With  Sir  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  be  candid.     Why 

should  I  conceal  the  worst  from  him,  when  I  felt  as  cer- 


116  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

tain  as  I  was  of  my  own  existence,  that  his  beautiful  niece 
was  already  beginning  to  wither  away  from  before  his 
eyes?  Convinced  that  "hope  deferred  maketh  sick  the 
heart,"  I  have  always,  in  such  cases,  warned  the  patient's 
friends,  long  beforehand,  of  the  inevitable  fate  awaiting 
the  object  of  their  anxious  hopes  and  fears,  in  order  that 
resignation  might  gradually  steal  thoroughly  into  their 
broken  hearts.  To  return :  I  was  conducted  to  the  baron- 
et's study,  where  he  was  standing  with  his  hat  and  gloves 
on,  ready  to  accompany  me  as  far  as  the  high-road  in  or- 
der that  I  might  await  the  arrival  of  a  London  coach.  I 
told  him,  in  short,  that  I  feared  I  had  seen  and  heard  too 
much  to  allow  a  doubt  that  his  niece's  present  symptoms 
were  those  of  the  commencing  stage  of  pulmonary  con- 
sumption ;  and  that,  though  medicine  and  change  of  clim- 
ate might  possibly  avert  the  evil  day  for  a  time,  it  was 
my  melancholy  duty  to  assure  him,  that  no  earthly  power 
could  save  her. 

"Merciful  God !"  he  gasped,  loosing  his  arm  from  mine, 
and  leaning  against  the  park  gate,  at  which  we  had  ar- 
rived. I  implored  him  to  be  calm.  He  continued  speech- 
less for  some  time,  with  his  hands  clasped. 

"Oh,  doctor,  doctor!"  he  exclaimed,  as  if  a  gleam  of 
hope  had  suddenly  flashed  across  his  mind,  "we've  for- 
got to  tell  you  a  most  material  thing,  which,  perhaps,  will 
alter  the  whole  case — oh !  how  could  we  have  forgotten 
it?"  he  continued,  growing  heated  with  the  thought;  "my 
niece  eats  very  heartily — nay,  more  heartily  than  any  of 
us,  and  seems  to  relish  her  food  more."  Alas !  I  was 
obliged,  as  I  have  hundreds  of  times  before  been  obliged, 
to  dash  the  cup  from  his  lips,  by  assuring  him  that  an 
almost  ravenous  appetite  was  as  invariably  a  forerunner 
of  consumption  as  the  pilot-fish  of  the  shark ! 

"Oh,  great  God !  what  will  become  of  me?  What  shall 
I  do?"  he  exclaimed,  almost  frantic,  and  wringing  his 
hands  in  despair.  He  had  lost  every  vestige  of  self-con- 
trol. "Then  my  sweet  angel  must  die!  Damning 
thought!  Oh,  let  me  die  too!  I  cannot — I  will  not  sur- 
vive her! — Doctor,  doctor,  you  must  give  up  your  Lon- 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  117 

don  practice,  and  come  and  live  in  my  house — you  must! 
Oh  come,  come,  and  I'll  fling  my  whole  fortune  at  your 
feet!  Only  save  her,  and  you  and  yours  shall  roll  in 
wealth,  if  I  go  back  to  India  to  procure  it ! — Oh,  whither 
— whither  shall  I  go  with  my  darling?  To  Italy — to 
France?  My  God!  what  shall  I  do  when  she  is  gone — 
for  ever!"  he  exclaimed,  like  one  distracted.  I  entreated 
him  to  re-collect  himself,  and  endeavor  to  regain  his  self- 
possession  before  returning  to  the  presence  of  his  niece. 
He  started.  "Oh,  mockery,  doctor,  mockery!  How  can 
I  ever  look  on  the  dear — the  doomed  girl  again?  She  is 
no  longer  mine;  she  is  in  her  grave — she  is!" 

Remonstrance  and  expostulation,  I  saw,  were  utterly 
useless,  and  worse,  for  they  served  only  to  irritate.  The 
coach  shortly  afterwards  drew  up ;  and,  wringing  my 

hands.  Sir extorted  a  promise  that  I  would  see  his 

niece  the  next  day,  and  bring  Dr.  Baillie  with  me,  if  he 
should  have  returned  to  town.  I  was  as  good  as  my 
word,  except  that  Dr.  Baillie  could  not  accompany  me, 
being  still  at  Brighton.  My  second  interview  with  Miss 
Herbert  was  long  and  painfully  interesting.  We  were 
alone.  She  wept  bitterly,  and  recounted  the  incident 
mentioned  above,  which  occurred  in  India,  and  occas- 
ioned her  first  serious  alarm.  She  felt  convinced,  she 
told  me,  that  her  case  was  hopeless ;  she  saw,  too,  that  her 
uncle  possessed  a  similar  conviction ;  and  sobbed  agoniz- 
ingly when  she  alluded  to  his  altered  looks.  She  had  felt 
a  presentiment,  she  said,  for  some  months  past,  which, 
however,  she  had  never  mentioned  till  then,  that  her  days 
were  numbered,  and  attributed,  too  truly,  her  accelerated 
illness  to  the  noxious  climate  of  India.  She  described  her 
sensations  to  be  that  of  constant  void  within,  as  if  there 
were  a  something  wanting — an  unnatural  hollowness — 
a  dull  deep  aching  in  the  left  side — a  frequent  inclination 
to  relieve  herself  by  spitting,  which,  when  she  did,  alas, 
alas !  she  observed  more  than  once,  to  be  streaked  with 
blood. 

"How  long  do  you  think  I  have  to  live,  doctor?"  she 
inquired  faintly. 


118  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

"Oh,  my  dear  girl,  do  not,  for  Heaven's  sake,  ask  such 
useless  questions ! — How  can  I  possibly  presume  to  an- 
swer them,  giving  you  credit  for  a  spark  of  common 
sense?"  She  grew  very  pale,  and  drew  her  handkerchief 
across  her  forehead. 

"Is  it  likely  that  I  shall  have  to  endure  much  pain?" 
she  asked,  with  increasing  trepidation.  I  could  reply 
only  that  I  hoped  not — that  there  was  no  ground  for  im- 
mediate apprehension  —  and  I  faltered,  that  possibly  a 
milder  climate,  and  the  skill  of  medicine,  might  yet  carry 
her  through.  The  poor  girl  shook  her  head  hopelessly, 
and  trembled  violently  from  head  to  foot. 

"Oh,  poor  uncle !  Poor,  p®or  Ed ,"  she  faltered,  and 

fell  fainting  into  my  arms ;  for  the  latter  allusion  to  Cap- 
tain    had  completely  overcome  her.    Holding  her 

senseless  sylph-like  figure  in  my  arms,  I  hurried  to  the 
bell,  and  was  immediately  joined  by  Sir ,  the  govern- 
ess, and  one  or  two  female  attendants.  I  saw  the  baronet 
was  beginning  to  behave  like  a  madman,  by  the  increas- 
ing boisterousness  of  his  manner,  and  the  occasional  glare 
of  wildness  that  shot  from  his  eye.  With  the  utmost  diffi- 
culty I  succeeded  in  forcing  him  from  the  room,  and 
keeping  him  out  till  Miss  Herbert  had  recovered. 

"Oh,  doctor,  doctor !"  he  muttered  hoarsely,  after  stag- 
gering to  a  seat,  "this  is  worse  than  death  !  I  pray  God  to 
take  her  and  me  too,  and  put  an  end  to  our  misery!" 

I  expostulated  with  him  rather  sternly,  and  represented 
to  him  the  absurdity  and  impiousness  of  his  wish. 

" !"  he  thundered,  starting  from  his  chair,  and 

stamping  furiously  to  and  fro  across  the  room,  "what  do 
you  mean  by  drivelling  in  that  way,  doctor?  Can  I  see 
my  darling  dying — absolutely  dying  by  inches — before 
my  very  eyes,  and  yet  be  cool  and  unconcerned?  I  did 
not  expect  such  conduct  from  you,  doctor."  He  burst 
into  tears.  "Oh!  I'm  going  mad — I'm  going  mad!" 
he  groaned,  and  sank  again  into  his  seat.  From 
one  or  two  efforts  he  made  to  force  down  the 
emotions  which  were  swelling  and  dilating  his 
whole     frame,     I     seriously     apprehended     either     that 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  119 

he  would  fall  into  a  fit,  or  go  raving  mad.  Happily,  how- 
ever, I  was  mistaken.  His  excitement  gradually  subsided. 
He  was  a  man  of  remarkably  strong  and  ardent  feelings, 
which  he  had  never  been  accustomed  to  control,  even  in 
the  moments  of  their  most  violent  manifestations ;  and  on 
the  present  occasion,  the  maddening  thought  that  the  ob- 
ject of  his  long,  intense  and  idolizing  love  and  pride  was 
about  to  be  lost  to  him  irretrievably — for  ever — was  suf- 
ficient to  overturn  his  shaken  intellects.  I  prevailed 
upon  him  to  continue  where  he  was,  till  I  returned  from 
his  niece ;  for  I  was  summoned  to  her  chamber.  I  found 
her  lying  on  the  bed,  only  partially  undressed.  Her  beau- 
tiful auburn  hair  hung  disordered  over  her  neck  and 
shoulders,  partially  concealing  her  lovely  marble-hued 
features.  Her  left  hand  covered  her  eyes,  and  her  right 
clasped  a  little  locket,  suspended  round  her  neck  by  a 

plain  black  ribbon,  containing  a  little  of  Captain  's 

hair.        Miss  B ,  her  governess,  her  maid,  and  the 

housekeeper,  with  tears  and  sobs,  were  engaged  in  ren- 
dering various  little  services  to  their  unfortunate  young 
mistress ;  and  my  heart  ached  to  think  of  the  little — the 
nothing — I  could  do  for  her. 

Two  days  afterwards,  Dr.  Baillie,  another  physician, 
and  myself,  went  down  to  see  Miss  Herbert ;  for  a  note 

from  Miss  B informed  me  that  her  ward  had  suffered 

severely  from  the  agitation  experienced  at  the  last  visit 
I  paid  her,  and  was  in  a  low  nervous  fever.  The  con- 
sumptive symptoms,  also,  were  beginning  to  gleam 
through  the  haze  of  accidental  indisposition  with  fearful 
distinctness !  Dr.  Baillie  simply  assured  the  baronet  that 
my  predictions  were  but  too  likely  to  be  verified ;  and 
that  the  only  chance  of  averting  the  worst  form  of  con- 
sumption (a  galloping  one)would  be  an  instant  removal 
to  Italy,  that  the  fall  of  the  year,  and  the  winter  season, 
might  be  spent  in  a  more  genial  and  fostering  climate. 
We,  at  the  same  time,  frankly  assured  Sir ,  who  lis- 
tened with  a  sullen,  despairing  apathy  of  manner,  that  the 
utmost  he  had  to  expect  from  a  visit  to  Italy,  was  the 
chance  of  a  temporary  suspension  of  the  fate  which  hov- 


120  THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

ered  over  his  niece.  In  a  few  weeks,  accordingly,  they 
were  all  settled  at  Naples. 

But  what  have  I  to  say,  all  this  time,  the  reader  is  pos- 
sibly asking,  about  the  individual  who  was  singled  out 
by  fate  for  the  first  and  heaviest  stroke  inflicted  by  Miss 
Herbert's  approaching  dissolution?  Where  was  the 
lover?  Where  was  Captain ?  I  have  avoided  allu- 
sions to  him  hitherto,  because  his  distress  and  agitation 
transcended  all  my  powers  of  description.  He  loved  Miss 
Herbert  with  all  the  passionate,  romantic  fervor  of  a  first 
attachment ;  and  the  reader  must  ask  his  own  heart,  what 
were  the  feelings  by  which  that  of  Captain was  lac- 
erated. 

I  shall  content  myself  with  recording  one  little  incident 

which  occurred  before  the  family  of  Sir left  for  Italy. 

I  was  retiring  one  night  to  rest,  about  twelve  o'clock, 
when  the  startling  summons  of  the  night-bell  brought 
me  again  down-stairs,  accompanied  by  a  servant.  Thrice 
the  bell  rang  with  impatient  violence  before  the  door 
could  possibly  be  opened,  and  I  heard  the  steps  of  some 
vehicle  let  down  hastily. 

"Is  Dr.  at  home?"  inquired  a  groom,  and  being 

answered  in  the  afBrmative,  in  a  second  or  two  a  gentle- 
man leaped  from  a  chariot  standing  at  the  door,  and  hur- 
ried into  the  room,  whither  I  had  retired  to  await  him. 
He  was  in  a  sort  of  half  military  travelling-dress.  His 
face  was  pale,  his  eye  sunk,  his  hair  disordered,  and  his 

voice  thick  and  hurried.     It  was  Captain  ,  who  had 

been  absent  on  a  shooting  excursion  in  Scotland,  and  who 
had  not  received  intelligence  of  the  alarming  symptoms 
disclosed  by  Miss  Herbert,  till  within  four  days  of  that 
which  found  him  at  my  house,  on  the  present  occasion, 
come  to  ascertain  from  me  the  reality  of  the  melancholy 

apprehension  so  suddenly  entertained  by  Sir and  the 

other  members  of  both  families. 

"Gracious  God!  Is  there  no  hope,  doctor?"  he  in- 
quired faintly,  after  swallowing  a  glass  of  wine,  which, 
seeing  his  exhaustion  and  agitation,  I  had  sent  for.  I  en- 
deavored to  evade   giving  a   direct   answer — attempted 


THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  121 

to  divert  his  thoughts  towards  the  projected  trip  to  the 
Continent — dilated  on  the  soothing,  balmy  climate  she 
would  have  to  breathe — it  had  done  wonders  for  others, 
etc. — and,  in  a  word,  exhausted  the  stock  of  inefficient 
subterfuges  and  palliatives  to  which  all  professional  men 
are,    on    such  occasions,  compelled    to  resort.     Captain 

listened  to  me  silently,  while  his  eye  was  fixed  on 

me  with  a  vacant,  unobserving  stare.  His  utter  wretch- 
edness touched  me  to  the  soul ;  and  yet,  what  consolation 
had  I  to  offer  him?  After  several  profound  sighs,  he  ex- 
claimed in  a  flurried  tone,  "I  see  how  it  is.  Her  fate  is 
fixed — and  so  is  mine!  Would  to  God — would  to  God, 
I  had  never  seen  or  known  Miss  Herbert! — What  will 
become  of  us !"  He  rose  to  go.  "Doctor,  forgive  me  for 
troubling  you  so  late,  but  really  I  can  rest  nowhere !     I 

must  go  back  to Hall."  I  shook  hands  with  him,  and 

in  a  few  moments  the  chariot  dashed  off. 

Really  I  can  scarcely  conceive  of  a  more  dreadful  state 

of  mind  than  that  of  Captain ,  or  of  any  one  whose 

"heart  is  in  the  right  place,"  to  use  a  homely  but  apt  ex- 
pression, when  placed  in  such  wretched  circumstances  as 
those  above  related.  To  see  the  death-warrant  sealed  of 
her  a  man's  soul  dotes  on — who  is  the  idolized  object  of 
his  honest,  fondest,  and  possibly  first  afifections!  Yes,  to 
see  her  bright  and  beautiful  form  suddenly  snatched  down 
into  "utter  darkness"  by  the  cold  relentless  grasp  of  our 
common  foe — "the  desire  of  our  eyes  taken  away  as  with 
a  stroke" — may  well  wither  one.  That  man's  soul  which 
would  not  be  palsied — prostrated  by  such  a  stroke  as  this, 
is  worthless,  and  worse — it  is  a  libel  on  his  kind.  He 
cannot  love  a  woman  as  she  should  and  must  be  loved. 
But  why  am  I  so  vehement  in  expressing  my  feelings  on 
the  subject?  Because,  in  the  course  of  my  professional 
intercourse,  my  soul  has  been  often  sickened  with  listen- 
ing to  the  expression  of  opposite  sentiments.  The  poor 
and  pitiful  philosophy — that  the  word  should  ever  have 
been  so  prostituted ! — which  is  now  sneaking  in  among 
us,  fostered  by  foolish  lads,  and  men  with  hollow  hearts 
and  barren  brains,  for  the  purpose  of  weeding  out  from 


122  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

the  soul's  garden  its  richest  and  choicest  flowers,  sym- 
pathy and  sentiment — this  philosophy  may  possibly 
prompt  some  reader  to  sneer  over  the  agonies  I  have  been 
attempting  to  describe;  but,  O  reader!  do  you  eschew 
it — trample  on  it  whenever,  wherever  you  find  it,  for  the 
reptile,  though  very  little,  is  very  venomous. 

Captain  's  regiment  was  ordered  to  Ireland,  and 

as  he  found  it  impossible  to  accompany  it,  he  sold  out, 
and  presently  followed  the  heart-broken  baronet  and  his 
niece  to  Italy.  The  delicious  climate  sufficed  to  kindle 
and  foster  for  a  while  that  deceitful  ingis  fafuus — Hope, 
which  always  flits  before  in  the  gloomy  horizon  of  con- 
sumptive patients,  and  leads  them  and  their  friends  on — 
and  on — and  on — till  it  suddenly  sinks  quivering  into 
their  grave !  They  stayed  at  Naples  till  the  month  of 
July.  Miss  Herbert  was  sinking,  and  that  with  fearfully 
accelerated  rapidity.  Sir  's  health  was  much  im- 
paired with  incessant  anxiety  and  watching;  and  Captain 
had  been  several  times  on  the  very  borders  of  mad- 
ness. His  love  for  the  dear  being  who  could  never  be 
his,  increased  ten  thousand-fold  when  he  found  it  hope- 
less !    Is  it  not  always  so  ? 

Aware  that  her  days  were  numbered,  Miss  Herbert  anx- 
iously importuned  her  uncle  to  return  to  England.  She 
wished,  she  said,  to  breathe  her  last  in  her  native  isle — 

among  the  green  pastures  and  hills  of  shire,  and 

to    be    buried    beside  her  father  and  mother.      Sir  

listened  to  the  utterance  of  these  sentiments  with  a  break- 
ing heart.  He  could  see  no  reason  for  refusing  a  compli- 
ance with  her  request ;  and,  accordingly,  the  latter  end  of 

August  beheld  the  unhappy  family  once  more  at  

Hall. 

I  once  saw  a  very  beautiful  lily,  of  rather  more  than 
ordinary  stateliness,  whose  stem  had  been  snapped  by 
the  storm  over-night ;  and,  on  entering  my  garden  in  the 
morning,  there,  alas !  alas !  lay  the  pride  of  all  chaste 
flowers,  pallid  and  prostrate  on  the  very  bed  where  it  had 
a  short  while  before  bloomed  so  sweetly!  This  little  cir- 
cumstance was  forcibly  recalled  to  my  recollection,  on 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  123 

seeing  Miss  Herbert  for  the  first  time  after  her  return 
from  the  Continent.  It  was  in  the  spacious  drawing- 
room  at  Hall,  where  I  had  before  seen  her,  in  the 

evening,  and  she  was  reclining  on  an  ottoman,  which  had 
been  drawn  towards  the  large  fretted  Gothic  window 
formerly  mentioned.  I  stole  towards  it  with  noiseless 
footsteps  ;  for  the  hushing,  cautioning  movements  of  those 
present  warned  me  that  Miss  Herbert  was  asleep.  I  stood 
and  gazed  in  silence  for  some  moments  on  the  lovely  un- 
fortunate— almost  afraid  to  disturb  her,  even  by  breath- 
ing. She  was  wasted  almost  to  a  shadow — attenuated  to 
nearly  ethereal  delicacy  and  transparency.  She  was 
dressed  in  a  plain  white  muslin  gown,  and  lying  on  an 
Indian  shawl,  in  which  she  had  been  enveloped  for  the 
purpose  of  being  brought  down  from  her  bed-chamber. 
Her  small  foot  and  ankle  were  concealed  beneath  white 
silk  stockings  and  satin  slippers — through  which  it  might 
be  seen  how  they  were  shrunk  from  the  full  dimensions 
of  health.  They  seemed,  indeed,  rather  the  exquisite 
chiselling  of  Canova,  the  representation  of  recumbent 
beauty,  than  flesh  and  blood,  and  scarcely  capable  of  sus- 
taining even  the  slight  pressure  of  Miss  Herbert's  wasted 
frame.  The  arms  and  hands  were  enveloped  in  long  white 
gloves,  which  fitted  very  loosely ;  and  her  waist,  encircled 
by  a  broad  violet-colored  ribbon,  was  rather  that  of  a 
young  girl  of  twelve  or  thirteen,  than  a  full-grown 
woman.  But  it  was  her  countenance — her  symmetrical 
features,  sunk,  faded,  and  damp  with  death-dews,  and  her 
auburn  hair  falling  in  rich,  matted,  careless  clusters  down 
each  side  of  her  alabaster  temples  and  neck ;  it  was  all 
this  which  suggested  the  bitterest  thoughts  of  blighted 
beauty,  almost  breaking  the  heart  of  the  beholder.  Per- 
fectly motionless  and  statue-like  lay  that  fair  creature, 
breathing  so  imperceptibly  that  a  rose-leaf  might  have 
slept  on  her  lips  unfluttered !     On  an  easy-chair,  drawn 

towards  the  head  of  the  ottoman,  sat  her  uncle.  Sir , 

holding  a  white  handkerchief  in  his  hand,  with  which  he, 
from  time  to  time,  wiped  off  the  dews  which  started  out 
incessantly  on  his  niece's  pallid  forehead.    It  was  affect- 


124  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN. 

ing  to  see  his  hair  changed  to  a  dull  iron-grey  hue; 
whereas,  before  he  had  left  for  the  Continent,  it  was  jet 
black.  His  sallow  and  wan  features  bore  the  traces  of 
recent  tears. 

And  where  now  is  the  lover?    Where  is  Captain ? 

again  inquires  the  reader.  He  was  then  at  Milan,  raving 
beneath  the  tortures  and  delirium  of  a  brain  fever,  which 

flung  him  on  his  sick-bed  only  the  day  before  Sir 's 

family  set  out  for  England.  Miss  Herbert  had  not  been 
told  of  the  circumstance  till  she  arrived  at  home ;  and 
those  who  communicated  the  intelligence  will  never  un- 
dertake such  a  duty  again ! 

After  some  time,  in  which  we  around  had  maintained 
perfect  silence,  Miss  Herbert  gently  opened  her  eyes ; 
and  seeing  me  sitting  opposite  her  uncle,  by  her  side, 
gave  me  her  hand,  and,  with  a  faint  smile,  whispered 
some  words  of  welcome  which  I  could  not  distinguish. 

"Am  I  much  altered,  doctor,  since  you  saw  me  last?" 
she  presently  inquired,  in  a  more  audible  tone.  I  said  I 
regretted  to  see  her  so  feeble  and  emaciated. 

"And  does  not  my  poor  uncle  also  look  very  ill?"  in- 
quired the  poor  girl,  eyeing  him  with  a  look  of  sorrowful 
fondness.  She  feebly  extended  her  arms,  as  if  for  the 
purpose  of  putting  them  around  his  neck,  and  he  seized 
and  kissed  them  with  such  fervor  that  she  burst  into 
tears.  "Your  kindness  is  killing  me — oh  !  don't,  don't !" 
she  murmured.  He  was  so  overpowered  with  his  emo- 
tions that  he  abruptly  rose  and  left  the  room.  I  then 
made  many  minute  inquiries  about  the  state  of  her  health. 
I  could  hardly  detect  any  pulsation  at  the  wrist,  though 
the  blue  veins,  and  almost  the  arteries,  I  fancied,  might 
be  seen  meandering  beneath  the  transparent  skin. 

My  feelings  will  not  allow  me,  nor  would  my  space,  to 
describe  every  interview  I  had  with  her.  She  sank  very 
rapidly.  She  exhibited  all  those  sudden,  deceitful  rally- 
ings,  which  invariably  agonize  consumptive  patients  and 
their  friends  with  fruitless  hopes  of  recovery.  Oh,  how 
they  are  clung  to !  how  hard  to  pursuade  their  fond  hearts 
to  relinquish  them !  with  what  despairing  obstinacy  will 


THE  DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  125 

they  persist  in  "hoping  against  hope!"  I  recollect  one 
evening,  in  particular,  that  her  shattered  energies  were  so 
unaccountably  revived  and  collected,  her  eye  grew  so  full 
and  bright,  her  cheeks  were  suffused  with  so  rich  a  ver- 
milion, her  voice  soft  and  sweet  as  ever,  and  her  spirits  so 
exhilarated,  that  even  I  was  staggered  for  a  moment ;  and 

poor  Sir got  so  excited  that  he  said  to  me,  in  a  sort 

of  ecstacy,  as  he  accompanied  me  to  my  carriage,  "Ah, 
doctor,  a  phoenix! — Doctor,  a  phoenix!  She's  rising  from 
her  ashes — ah!  ah!  She'll  cheat  you  for  once — darling!" 
and  he  raised  his  handkerchief  to  his  eyes,  for  they  were 
overflowing. 

"Doctor,  you're  fond  of  music,  I  believe ;  you  won't 
have  any  objection  to  listen  to  a  little  now,  will  you?  I'm 
exactly  in  the  mood  for  it,  and  it's  almost  the  only  enjoy- 
ment I  have  left,    and  Miss    B plays  enchantingly. 

Go,  love,  please,  and  play  a  mass  from  Mozart — the  one 
we  listened  to  last  night,"  said  Miss  Herbert,  on  one  oc- 
casion, about  a  week  after  the  interview  last  mentioned. 

Miss  B ,  who  was  in  tears,  immediately  arose  and 

took  her  seat  at  the  piano.  She  played  exquisitely.  I 
held  one  of  my  sweet  patient's  hands  in  mine,  as  she  lay 
on  the  sofa,  with  her  face  turned  towards  the  window, 
through  which  the  retiring  sunlight  was  streaming  in 
tender  radiance  on  her  wasted  features,  after  tinting 
richly  the  amber-hued  groves  which  were  visible  through 
the  window.     I   need   not  attempt  to   characterize  the 

melting  music  which  Miss  B was  pouring  from  the 

piano.  I  have  often  thought  that  there  is  a  sort  of  spirit- 
ual character  about  some  of  the  masses  of  Mozart,  which 
draws  out  the  greatest  sympathies  of  one's  nature,  strik- 
ing the  deepest  and  most  hidden  chords  of  the  human 
heart.  On  the  present  occasion,  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances in  which  I  was  placed — the  time,  the  place,  the 
dying  angel  whose  hand  was  clasped  in  mine— disposed 
me  to  a  more  intense  appreciation  of  Mozart's  music 
than  I  had  ever  known  before.  The  soft,  soothing,  sol- 
emn, swelling  cadences  undulated  one  after  another  into 
my  full  heart,  till  they  forced  the  tears  to  gush  from  my 


126  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

eyes.  I  was  utterly  overcome.  Oh,  that  languishing-, 
heart-breaking  music  I  can  never  forget!  The  form  of 
Eliza  Herbert  flits  before  me  to  this  day  when  I  hear 
it  spoken  of.  I  will  not  listen  to  any  one  play  it  now — 
though  I  have  often  wept  since  on  hearing  it  from  Miss 

B ,  to  whom   Miss   Herbert  bequeathed   her  piano. 

But,  to  return.  My  tears  flowed  fast ;  and  I  perceived  also 
the  crystal  drops  oozing  through  the  closed  eyelids  of 
Miss  Herbert.  "Heart-breaking  music,  is  it  not,  doctor?" 
she  murmured.  I  could  make  her  no  reply.  I  felt  at  that 
moment  as  if  I  could  have  laid  down  my  life  for  her. 

After  a  long  pause.  Miss  B continuing  all  the  while 

playing.  Miss  Herbert  sobbed — "Oh,  how  I  should  like 
to  be  buried  while  the  organ  is  playing  this  music !  And 
he — ^he  was  fond  of  it  too!"  she  continued,  with  a  long 
shuddering  sigh.  It  was  echoed,  to  my  surprise,  but  in 
a  profounder  tone,  from  that  quarter  of  the  room  where 
the  grand  piano  was  placed.  It  could  not  have  been  from 
Miss  B ,  I  felt  sure ;  and,  looking  towards  her,  I  be- 
held the  dim  outline  of  Sir 's  figure  leaning  against 

the  piano,  with  his  face  buried  in  his  white  handker- 
chief. He  had  stolen  into  the  room  unperceived ;  for  he 
had  left  it  half  an  hour  before,  in  a  fit  of  sudden  agitation ; 
and,  after  continuing  about  five  minutes,  was  compelled 
by  his  feelings  again  to  retire.  His  sigh,  and  the  noise 
he  made  in  withdrawing,  had  been  heard  by  Miss  Her- 
bert. 

"Doctor — doctor!"  she  stammered  faintly,  turning  as 
white  as  ashes,  "who — who  is  that? — what  was  it? — Oh 
dear  !  it  can  never  be — no — no — it  cannot" — and  she  sud- 
denly fainted.  She  continued  so  long  insensible  that  I 
began  to  fear  it  was  all  over.  Gradually,  however,  she 
recovered,  and  was  carried  up  to  bed,  which  she  did  not 
leave  again  for  a  week. 

I  mentioned,  I  think,  in  a  former  part  of  this  narrative, 
Miss  Herbert's  partiality  for  poetry,  and  that  her  read- 
ings were  confined  to  that  which  was  of  the  highest  or- 
der. Among  the  MSS.  found  in  her  desk,  poor  girl,  after 
her  decease,  were  many  extracts  from  the  poets,  copied 


A    Visit  to   the   Convalescent 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  127 

in  a  beautiful  hand,  and  evincing  true  taste  in  their  se- 
lection. She  was  particularly  partial  to  Thompson's  Sea- 
sons, especially  "Winter,"  from  which  she  transcribed 
largely.  There  are  also  a  few  unpretending  sonnets  and 
stanzas  of  her  own ;  which,  if  not  of  first-rate  excellence, 
breathe,  nevertheless,  the  sweetest  sentiments  of  virtue, 
simplicity,  and  delicacy.  If  I  had  been  permitted,  I 
should  have  liked  to  lay  before  the  reader  a  little  "Son- 
net to  a  Dead  Robin,"  and  "To  a  Moss  Rose."  I  have 
also  often  heard  her,  while  sitting  by  her  bedside,  utter 
very  beautiful  thoughts,  suggested  by  the  bitterness  of 
her  own  premature  fate.  All — all  are  treasured  in  my 
heart ! 

I   have  not  attempted  to   describe  her  feelings   with 

reference  to  Captain  ,  simply  because  I  cannot  do 

them  justice,  without,  perhaps,  incurring  the  reader's 
suspicions  that  I  am  slipping  into  the  character  of  the 

novelist.    She  did  not  know  that  Captain continued 

yet  at  death's  door  at  Milan,  for  we  felt  bound  to  spare 
her  feelings.  We  fabricated  a  story  that  he  had  been 
summoned  into  Egypt,  to  inquire  after  the  fate  of  a 
brother  who  had  travelled  thither,  and  whose  fate,  we  said 
was  doubtful.  Poor  girl!  she  believed  us  at  last — and 
seemed  rather  inclined  to  accuse  him  of  unkindness  for 
allowing  anything  to  withdraw  him  from  her  side.  She 
never,  however,  said  anything  directly  of  this  kind.     It 

is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  Captain never  knew 

of  the  fiction.  I  have  never,  to  this  day,  entirely  forgiven 
myself  for  the  part  I  took  in  it. 

I  found  her  one  morning,  within  a  few  days  of  her 
death,  wretchedly  exhausted  both  in  mind  and  body.  She 
had  passed,  as  usual,  a  restless  night,  unsoothed  even  by 
the  laudanum  which  had  been  administered  to  her  in 
much  larger  quantities  than  her  medical  attendants  had 
authorized.  It  had  stupified,  without,  at  the  same  time, 
composing  and  calming  her.  Poor — poor  girl !  almost 
the  last  remains  of  her  beauty  had  disappeared.  There 
was  a  fearful  hollowness  in  her  once  lovely  and  blooming 
cheeks ;  and  her  eyes — those  bright  orbs  which  had  a 


128  THE   DIARY    OF    A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

short  while  ago  dazzled  and  delighted  all  they  shone 
upon — were  now  sunk,  quenched,  and  surrounded  by- 
dark  halos !  She  lay  with  her  head  buried  deep  in  the  pil- 
low, and  her  hair  folded  back,  matted  with  perspiration. 
Her  hands — but  I  cannot  attempt  to  describe  her  appear- 
ance any  further. 

Sir sat  by  her  bedside,  as  he  had  sat  all  through 

her  illness,  and  was  utterly  worn  out.     I  occupied  the 

chair  allotted  to  Miss  B ,  who  had  just  retired  to  bed, 

having  been  up  all  night.  After  a  long  silence.  Miss  Her- 
bert asked  very  faintly  for  some  tea,  which  was  presently 
brought  her,  and  dropped  into  her  mouth  by  spoonfuls. 
Soon  after,  she  revived  a  little,  and  spoke  to  me,  but  in  so 
low  a  whisper  that  I  had  great  difficulty  in  distinguishing 
her  words.  The  exertion  of  utterance,  also,  was  attended 
with  so  much  evident  pain  that  I  would  rather  she  had 
continued  silent. 

"Laudanum — laudanum — laudanum,  doctor!  They 
don't  give  me  enough  laudnum !"  she  muttered.  We 
made  her  no  reply.  Presently  she  began  murmuring  at 
intervals  somewhat  in  this  strain: — "Ah — among  the 
pyramids — looking  at  them — sketching — ascending  them, 
perhaps — oh!  what  if  they  should  fall  and  crush  him? 
Has  he  found  his  brother?  On  his  way — home — sea — 
ships — ship."  Still  we  did  not  interrupt  her,  for  her  man- 
ner indicated  only  a  dim  dreary  sort  of  half-conscious- 
ness. About  an  hour  afterwards  (wh)^  did  I  linger  there, 
it  may  be  asked,  when  I  could  do  nothing  for  her,  and 
could  ill  spare  the  time?  I  know  not — I  could  not  leave 
her)  she  again  commenced  in  a  low,  moaning,  wandering 
tone — "Uncle!  What  do  you  think?  Chatterton — poor 
melancholy  Chatterton,  sat  by  my  side,  all  night  long,  in 

that  chair  where  Dr. is  sitting.    He  died  of  a  broken 

heart — or  of  my  disease,  didn't  he?  Wan — wan — sad — 
cold — ghostly — but  so  like  a  poet!  Oh,  how  he  talked! 
no  one  earthly  like  him !  His  voice  was  like  the  mys- 
terious   music   of   an   ^Eolian    harp — so    solemn — soft — 

stealing. *         *  *         -4:         *         *         *       * 

"He  put  his  icy  fingers  over  my  heart,  and  said  it  must 


THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  129 

soon  be  as  cold !  But  he  told  me  not  to  be  afraid,  nor 
weep,  because  I  was  dying  so  young — so  early.  He  said 
I  was  a  young  rose-tree,  and  would  have  the  longer  to 
bloom  and  blossom  when  he  came  for  me."  She  smiled 
faintly  and  sadly.  "Oh,  dear,  dear! — I  wish  I  had  him 
here  again !  But  he  looks  very  cold  and  ghostly — never 
moves — nothing  rustics — I  never  hear  him  come,  or  go — 
but  I  look,  and  there  he  is!  And  I'm  not  at  all  fright- 
ened, for  he  seems  gentle ;  but  I  think  he  can't  be  happy 

— happy — never  smiles,  never ! Dying  people  see  and 

hear  more  than  others!" 

This,  I  say,  is  the  substance  of  what  she  uttered.  All 
she  said  was  pervaded  by  a  sad  romance,  which  showed 
that  her  soul  was  deeply  imbued  with  poetry. 

"Toll! — toll! — toll! — How  solemn! — White  plumes! — 
white  scarfs  ! — Hush  ! — 'earth  to  earth' — Oh,  dreadful !  It 
is  crumbling  on  my  heart !  They  all  go — they  leave  me 
all — poor,  poor  Eliza ! — they  leave  m§  all  alone  in  the  cold 
church.  He'll  often  walk  in  the  church  by  himself — his 
tears  will  fall  on  the  pavement — but  I  shall  not  hear  him 
— nor  see  him !  He  will  ne — ver  see  me !  Will  the  or- 
gan play,  I  wonder?  It  may  wake  me  from  sleep  for  a 
while !"  I  listened  to  all  this,  and  was  fit  for  nothing 
the  rest  of  the  day.  Again — again  I  saw  her,  to  let  fall 
tears  over  the  withered  petals,  the  blighted  blossoms  of 
early  beauty!  It  wrung  my  heart  to  see  her  little  more 
than   a   breathing   corpse.      Oh !    the    gloom — anguish — 

desolation — diffused  through Hall.    It  could  be  felt; 

it  oppressed  you  on  entering!         *         *  *       *         * 

On  Saturday  morning  (the  —  day  of  November  18 — ), 
I  drove  down  early,  having  the  preceding  evening  prom- 
ised to  be  there  as  soon  as  possible  the  next  day.  It  was 
a  scowling  November  morning,  and  my  heart  sank  within 
me  as  my  chariot  rattled  rapidly  along  the  hard  high- 
way towards Hall.    But  I  was  too  late.  The  curtain 

had  fallen,  and  hid  poor  Eliza  Herbert  from  this  world 
for  ever !  She  had  expired  about  half  an  hour  before  my 
arrival. 

As  I  was  returning  to  town,  after  attending  the  fun- 


130  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

eral  of  Miss  Herbert,  full  of  bitter  and  sorrowful 
thoughts,  I  met  a  travelling  carriage-and-four  thunder- 
ing down  the  road.    It  contained  poor  Captain ,  his 

valet,  and  a  young  Italian  medical  attendant — all  just  re- 
turned from  the  Continent.  He  looked  white  and  wasted. 
The  crape  on  my  hat — my  gloves — weepers — mourning 
suit,  told  all  instantly.  I  was  in  a  moment  at  his  side — 
for  he  had  swooned. 

As  for  the  disconsolate  baronet,  little  remains  to  be 

said.    He  disposed  of Hall ;  and,  sick  of  England — 

ill  and  irritable — he  attempted  to  regain  his  Indian  ap- 
pointment, but  unsuccessfully ;  so  he  betook  himself  to 

a  solitary  house  belonging  to  the  family  in  shire ; 

and,  in  the  touching  language  of  one  of  old,  "went  on 
mourning  to  the  end  of  his  days." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  SPECTRAL  DOG. 


AN  ILLUSION. 


HE  age  of  ghosts  and  hobgoblins  is  gone  by,  says 
worthy  Dr  Hibbert ;  and  so,  after  him,  says  al- 
most everybody  now-a-days.  These  mysterious 
visitors  are  henceforth  to  be  resolved  into  mere 
optical  delusions,  acting  on  an  excitable  fancy — an  ir- 
ritable nervous  temperament;  and  the  report  of  a  real 
bona-fide  ghost,  or  apparition,  is  utterly  scouted.  Pos- 
sibly this  may  not  be  going  too  far,  even  though  it  be  in 
the  teeth  of  some  of  the  most  stubborn  facts  that  are  on 
record.  One,  or  possibly  two,  of  this  character,  I  may 
perhaps  present  to  the  reader  on  a  future  occasion ;  but 
at  present  I  shall  content  myself  with  relating  a  very 
curious  and  interesting  case  of  acknowledged  optical 
delusion ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  many  of  my  medical 
readers  can  parallel  it  with  similar  occurrences  within 
the  sphere  of  their  observation. 

Mr.  D was  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England, 

educated  at  Oxford — a  scholar,  a  "ripe  and  good  one" — 
a  man  of  remarkably  acute  and  powerful  understanding; 
but,  according  to  his  own  account,  destitute  of  even  an 
atom  of  imagination.  He  was  also  an  exemplary  min- 
ister ;  preached  twice  willingly  every  Sunday,  and  per- 
formed all  the  other  duties  of  his  office  with  zealous 
fidelity,  and  to  the  full  satisfaction  of  his  parishioners. 
If  any  man  is  less  likely  to  be  terrified  with  ghosts,  or 
has  less  reason  to  be  so,  than  another,  surely  it  was  such 

a  character  as  Mr.  D . 

He  had  been  officiating  one  Sunday  evening  for  an  in- 
valid friend,  at  the  latter's  church,  a  few  miles  distant 


132  THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

from  London,  and  was  walking  homewards,  enjoying  the 
tranquihty  of  the  night,  and  enlivened  by  the  cheerful 
beams  of  the  full  moon ;  when,  at  about  three  miles  dis- 
tance from  town,  he  suddenly  heard,  or  fancied  he  heard, 
immediately  behind  him,  the  sound  of  gasping  and  pant- 
ing as  of  a  dog  following  at  his  heels,  breathless  with 
running.  He  looked  around  on  both  sides,  but  seeing  no 
dog,  thought  he  must  have  been  deceived,  and  resumed 
his  walk  and  meditations.  The  sound  was  presently  re- 
peated. Again  he  looked  around,  but  with  no  better  suc- 
cess than  before.  After  a  little  pause,  thinking  there  was 
something  rather  odd  about  it,  it  suddenly  struck  him 
that  what  he  had  heard  was  nothing  more  than  the  noise 
of  his  own  hard  breathing,  occasioned  by  the  insensibly 
accelerated  pace  at  which  he  was  walking,  intent  upon 
some  subject  which  then  particularly  occupied  his 
thoughts.  He  had  not  walked  more  than  ten  paces  far- 
ther, when  he  again  heard  precisely  similar  sounds,  but 
with  a  running  accompaniment — if  I  may  be  allowed  a 
pun — of  the  pit-pit-pattering  of  a  dog's  feet,  following 
close  behind  his  left  side. 

"God  bless  me !"  exclaimed  Mr.  D aloud,  stopping 

for  the  third  time,  and  looking  around  in  all  directions, 
far  and  near ;  "why,  really,  that's  very  odd — very !  Surely 
I  could  not  have  been  mistaken  again?"  He  continued 
standing  still,  wiped  his  forehead,  replaced  his 
hat  on  his  head,  and,  with  a  little  trepidation, 
resumed  his  walk,  striking  his  stout  black  walking- 
stick  on  the  ground  with  a  certain  energy  and  resolute- 
ness, which  sufficed  in  reassuring  his  own  flurried  spirits. 

The  next  thirty  or  forty  paces  of  his  walk,  Mr.  D 

passed  over  ercctis  aiirihtis,  and  hearing  nothing  similar 
to  the  sounds  which  had  thrice  attracted  his  attention, 
was  relapsing  into  his  meditative  mood,  when,  in  a  few 
moments,  the  noise  was  repeated,  apparently  from  his 
right-hand  side ;  and  he  gave  something  like  a  start  from 
the  path-side  into  the  road,  on  feeling  the  calf  of  his  leg 
brushed  past  as  he  described  it,  by  the  shaggy  coat  of  his 
invisible  attendant.     He  looked  suddenly  down,  and,  to 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  133 

his  very  great  alarm  and  astonishment,  beheld  the  dim 
outline  of  a  large  Newfoundland  dog,  of  a  blue  color! 
He  moved  from  the  spot  where  he  was  standing — the 
phantom  followed  him — he  rubbed  his  eyes  with  his 
hands,  shook  his  head,  and  again  looked ;  but  there  it  still 
was,  large  as  a  young  calf  (to  which  he  himself  compared 
it),  and  had  assumed  a  more  distinct  and  definite  form. 
The  color,  however,  continued  the  same — faint  blue.  He 
observed,  too,  its  eyes — like  dim-decaying  fire-coals,  as  it 
looked  composedly  up  in  his  face.  He  poked  about  his 
walking-stick,  and  moved  it  repeatedly  through  and 
through  the  form  of  the  phantom ;  but  there  it  continued 
— indivisible — impalpable — in  short,  as  much  a  dog  as 
ever,  and  yet  the  stick  traversing  its  form  in  every  direc- 
tion, from  the  tail  to  the  tip  of  the  nose !  Mr.  D hur- 
ried on  a  few  steps,  and  again  looked — there  was  the 
dog! — Now,  it  is  fit  the  reader  should  be  informed  that 

Mr.  D was  a  remarkably  temperate  man,  and  had, 

that  evening,  contented  himself  with  a  solitary  glass  of 
port  by  the  bedside  of  his  sick  brother;  so  that  there  was 
no  room  for  supposing  his  perceptions  to  have  been  dis- 
turbed with  liquor. 

"What  can  it  be?"  thought  he,  while  his  heart  knocked 
rather  harder  than  usual  against  the  bars  of  its  prison — 
"Oh!  it  must  be  an  optical  delusion — oh,  'tis  clearly  so! 
nothing  in  the  world  else !  that's  all.  How  odd !"  and  he 
smiled,  he  thought,  very  unconcernedly;  but  another 
glimpse  of  the  phantom  standing  by  him  in  blue  dis- 
tinctness instantly  darkened  his  features  with  the  hue 
of  apprehension.  If  it  really  was  an  optical  delusion,  it 
was  the  most  fixed  and  pertinacious  one  he  ever  heard  of ! 
The  best  part  of  valor  is  discretion,  says  Shakespeare — 
and  in  all  things ;  so,  observing  a  coach  passing  by  at 

that  moment,  to  put  an  end  to  the  matter,  Mr.  D , 

with  a  little  trepidation  in  his  tone,  ordered  it  to  stop; 
there  was  just  room  for  one  inside ;  and  in  stepped  Mr. 

D ,  chuckling  at  the  cunning  fashion  after  which  he 

had  succeeded  in  jockeying  his  strange  attendant.  Not 
feeling  inclined  to  talk  with  the  fat  woman  who  sat  next 


134  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

him,  squeezing  him  most  unmercifully  against  the  side 
of  the  coach,  nor  with  the  elderly  grazier-looking  man 
fronting  him,  whose  large  dirty  top-boots  seriously  in- 
commoded him,  he  shut  his  eyes,  that  he  might  pursue 
his  thoughts  undisturbed.  After  about  five  minutes'  rid- 
ing, he  suddenly  opened  his  eyes — and  the  first  thing 
that  met  them  was  the  figure  of  the  blue  dog,  lying 
stretched,  in  some  unaccountable  manner,  at  his  feet, 
half  under  the  seat ! 

"I — I — hope  the  dog  does  not  annoy  you,  sir?"  in- 
quired Mr.  D ,  a  little  flustered,  of  the  man  opposite, 

hoping  to  discern  whether  the  dog  chose  to  be  visible 
to  any  one  else. 

"Sir!"  exclaimed  the  person  he  addressed,  starting 
from  a  kind  of  doze,  and  staring  about  in  the  bottom  of 
the  coach. 

"Lord,  sir !"  echoed  the  woman  beside  him. 

"A  dog,  sir,  did  you  say?"  inquired  all  in  a  breath. 

"Oh — nothing — nothing,  I  assure  you.  'Tis  a  little  mis- 
take,"   replied    Mr.    D ,    with    a    faint    smile ;    "I — I 

thought — in  short,  I  find  I've  been  dreaming;  and  I'm 
sure  I  beg  pardon  for  disturbing  you."    Every  one  in  the 

coach  laughed  except  Mr.  D ,  whose  eyes,  continued 

riveted  on  the  dim  blue  outline  of  the  dog,  lying  motion- 
less at  his  feet.  He  was  now  certain  that  he  was  suffering 
from  an  optical  delusion  of  some  sort  or  other,  and  endeav- 
ored to  prevent  his  thoughts  from  running  into  an  alarmed 
channel,  by  striving  to  engage  his  faculties  with  the  phi- 
losphy  of  the  thing.  He  could  make  nothing  out, 
however ;  and  the  Q.E.D.  of  his  thinkings  startled  him 
not  a  little,  when  it  came  in  the  shape  of  the  large  blue 
dog,  leaping  at  his  heels  out  of  the  coach,  when  he 
alighted.  Arrived  at  home,  he  lost  sight  of  the  phantom 
during  the  time  of  supper  and  the  family  devotions.  As 
soon  as  he  had  extinguished  his  bedroom  candle,  and  got 
into  bed,  he  was  nearly  leaping  out  again,  on  feeling  a 
sensation  as  if  a  large  dog  had  jumped  on  that  part  of  the 
bed  where  his  feet  lay.  He  felt  its  pressure !  He  said  he 
was    inclined  to  rise,  and     make  it  a  subject  of  special 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  135 

prayer  to  the  Deity  !  Mrs.  D asked  him  what  was  the 

matter  with  him?  for  he  became  very  cold,  and  shivered 
a  little.  He  easily  quieted  her  with  saying  he  felt  a  little 
chilled ;  and  as  soon  as  she  was  fairly  asleep,  he  got 
quietly  out  of  bed,  and  walked  up  and  down  the  room. 
Wherever  he  moved,  he  beheld,  by  the  moonlight  through 
the  window,  the  dim  dusky  outline  of  the  dog,  following 

wherever  he  went!     Mr.  D opened  the  windows,  he 

did  not  exactly  know  why,  and  mounted  the  dressing- 
table  for  that  purpose.  On  looking  down  before  he  leaped 
on  the  floor,  there  was  the  dog  waiting  for  him,  squatting 
composedly  on  his  haunches!  There  was  no  standing 
this  any  longer,  thought  Mr.  D ,  delusion  or  no  delu- 
sion ;  so  he  ran  to  the  bed — plunged  beneath  the  clothes, 
and,  thoroughly  frightened,  dropped  at  length  asleep, 
his  head  under  cover  all  night !  On  waking  in  the  morn- 
ing, he  thought  it  must  have  been  all  a  dream  about  the 
dog,  for  it  had  totally  disappeared  with  the  daylight. 
When  an  hour's  glancing  in  all  directions  had  convinced 
him  that  the    phantom  was  really  no    longer  visible,  he 

told  the  whole  to  Mrs.  D ,  and  made  very  merry  with 

her  fears — for  she  would  have  it,  that  it  was  "something 

supernatural,"  and,  good  lady!  "Mr. ,  might  depend 

upon  it,  that  the  thing  had  its  errand !"  Four  times  sub- 
sequent to  this  did  Mr.  D see  the  spectral  visitant — 

nowise  altered  either  in  its  manners,  form,  or  color.  It 
w^as  always  late  in  the  evenings  when  he  observed  it,  and 
generally  when  he  was  alone.  He  was  a  man  extensively 
acquainted  with  physiology ;  but  felt  utterly  at  a  loss  to 
what  derangement  of  what  part  of  the  animal  economy 
to  refer  it.  So,  indeed,  was  I — for  he  came  to  consult  me 
about  it.  He  was  with  me  once  during  the  presence  of 
the  phantom.  I  examined  his  eyes  with  a  candle,  to  see 
whether  the  interrupted  motions  of  the  irides  indicated 
any  sudden  alteration  of  the  functions  of  the  optic  nerve; 
but  the  pupils  contracted  and  dilated  with  perfect  regu- 
larity. One  thing,  however,  was  certain — his  stomach 
had  been  latterly  a  little  out  of  order;  and  everybody 
knows  the  intimate  connection  between  its  functions  and 


136  THE  DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

the  nervous  system.  But  why  he  should  see  spectra — 
why  they  should  assume  and  retain  the  figure  of  a  dog, 
and  of  such  uncanine  color  too — and  why  it  should  so 
pertinaciously  attach  itself  to  him,  and  be  seen  precisely 
the  same  at  the  various  intervals  after  which  it  made  its 
appearance — and  why  he  should  hear,  or  imagine  he 
heard  it,  utter  sounds — all  these  questions  I  am  as  unable 

to  answer  as  Mr.  D was,  or  as,  possibly  the  reader 

will  be.  He  may  account  for  it  in  whatever  way  his  in- 
genuity may  enable  him.  I  have  seen  and  known  other 
cases  of  spectra,  not  unlike  the  one  above  related;  and 
great  alarm  and  horror  have  they  excited  in  the  breasts 
of  persons  blessed  with  less  firmness  and  good  sense  than 
Mr.  D displayed. 


A  perusal  of  the  foregoing  narrative  occasioned  its 
corroboration,  by  the  following  account  of  a  similar  spec- 
trum, seen  by  one  of  my  scientific  friends.  As  the 
reader  will  doubtless  consider  it  interesting,  I  here  sub- 
join the  letter  from  my  friend. 

Blackheath,  December,  1830. 

My  Dear  Sir, — Though  the  "Spectral  Dog"  is  some- 
what laughable,  in  quality  of  tailpiece  to  the  melancholy 
— the  truly  sorrowful  narrative  immediately  preceding 
it,  I  have  read  it  with  nearly  equal  interest,  because  it 
forcibly  reminds  me  of  a  similar  incident  in  my  own  life. 

In  my  early  days  I  was,  as  you  have  often  heard  me 
say,  an  infatuated  searcher  after  the  philosopher's  stone ! 
1  then  resided  near  Bristol,  and  had  a  back  parlor  fitted 
up  according  to  my  fancy,  in  a  very  gloomy  style.  I 
soon  filled  it  with  the  apparatus  of  my  craft — crucibles, 
furnace,  retorts  &c.,  &c.,  &c.,  without  end.  I  never  al- 
lowed the  light  of  day  to  dissipate  the  mysterious  gloom 
which  pervaded  my  laboratory ;  but  had  an  old  Roman 
lamp,  suspended  from  the  ceiling,  kept  continually  burn- 
ing, night  and  day.  I  had  three  different  locks  on  the 
door;  and  took  such  precautions  as  enabled  me  to  sat- 
isfy myself  that  no  one  ever  entered  the  room  for  nearly 
three  years,  except  a  singular  and  enthusiastic  old  man, 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  137 

who  first  inspired  me  with  my  madness,  as  I  may  well 
call  it.  You  know  too  well,  my  dear  sir,  how  much  of 
my  little  fortune  was  fritted  away  in  running  after  that 
ridiculous  Will-o'-the-Wisp.    But  to  my  tale. 

One  Sunday  evening,  after  dining  hastily  at  five 
o'clock,  I  took  my  candle  in  my  hand,  and  hurried  back 
to  my  laboratory,  which  I  had  quitted  only  half  an  hour 
before  for  dinner.  On  unlocking  the  door,  and  entering, 
to  my  equal  alarm  and  astonishment,  I  distinctly  saw  the 
figure  of  a  little  old  stooping  woman  in  a  red  cloak,  and 
with  a  very  pale  face.  She  stood  near  the  fireplace,  and 
leaned  with  both  hands  on  a  walking-stick.  I  was  nearly 
letting  fall  the  candlestick  I  held.  However,  I  contrived 
to  set  it  down  pretty  steadily  on  the  table,  which  stood  be- 
tween my  mysterious  guest  and  me,  and  spoke  to  her.  I 
received  no  answer.  The  figure  did  not  move — nay,  it  did 
not  even  look  at  me.  I  stamped  with  my  foot — I  knocked 
my  knuckles  on  the  table — I  shook  it  with  both  my  hands 
— I  called  out  to  the  old  woman — but  in  vain !  A  bottle 
of  spirits — brandy,  if  I  recollect  right — and  a  wine-glass, 
stood  on  a  shelf  of  the  cupboard,  which  was  close  at  my 
elbow.  I  poured  out  a  glassful,  and  drank  it.  Still  the 
figure  continued  there,  standing  before  me  as  distinct,  as 
motionless  as  ever.  I  began  to  suspect  it  was  merely  an  oc- 
ular spectrum.  I  rubbed  my  eyes,  I  pushed  them  inward 
with  my  fingers,  till  corruscations  of  light  seemed  to 
flash  from  them.  But  when  I  directed  them  again  towards 
the  spot  where  the  apparition  had  stood,  there  it  still 
was !  I  walked  up  to  her  somewhat  falteringly.  She  stood 
exactly  in  the  way  of  my  arm-chair,  as  though  she  were 
on  the  point  of  sitting  down  upon  it,  I  actually  walked 
clean  through  the  figure,  and  sat  down.  After  a  few 
moments,  I  opened  my  eyes,  which  I  had  closed  on  sit- 
ting down,  and  behold,  the  figure  stood  fronting  me, 
about  six  feet  off!  I  rose — it  moved  further  off;  I  lifted 
up  my  right  arm  in  a  threatening  manner — so  did  the 
figure;  I  raised  my  other  arm — so  did  the  old  woman;  I 
moved  towards  her — she  retreated,  all  the  while  never 
once  looking  at  me.     She  got  towards  the  spot  where  I 


138  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

had  formerly  stood ;  and  so  the  table  was  once  more  be- 
tween us.  I  got  more  agitated  than  ever ;  but  when  the 
figure  began  to  approach  me  in  a  direct  line,  walking  ap- 
parently right  through  the  table,  even  as  the  Israelites 
through  the  Red  Sea,  I  quite  lost  my  presence  of  mind.  A 
giddiness,  or  sickness,  came  over  me,  and,  sinking  into 
my  seat,  I  fainted.  When  I  recovered  the  spectre  had 
disappeared. 

I  have  never  since  seen  it,  nor  anything  similar.  Such 
spectra  are  by  no  means  rare  among  studious  men,  if  of 
an  irritable,  nervous  temperament,  and  an  imaginative 
turn.  I  know  a  learned  baronet  who  has  his  study  some- 
times crowded  with  them ;  and  he  never  feels  so  much 
at  home  as  when  surrounded  by  these  airy  spirits. 

You  may  make  any  use  you  like  of  this  letter. — I  am, 
my  dear  sir,  ever  faithfully  yours.,  W.  G. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A  MAN  ABOUT  TOWN. 


IT  HIM — pitch  it  into  him!  Go  it,  boys — go  it! 
Right  into  your  man,  each  of  you,  like  good  'uns ! 
— Top  sawyers,  these  ! — Hurra !  Tap  his  claret 
cask — draw  his  cork! — Go  it — go  it — beat  him, 
big  one ! — lick  him,  little  one — Hurra  ! — Slash,  smash 
— fib  away — right  and  left! — Hollo! — Clear  the  way 
there!  — Ring,  ring!" 

These  and  many  similar  exclamations,  may  serve  to 
bring  before  the  reader  one  of  those  ordinary  scenes  in 
London — a  street  row ;  arising,  too,  out  of  circumstances 
of  equally  frequent  recurrence.  A  gentleman  ( !)  prowl- 
ing about  Piccadilly,  towards  nightfall,  in  the  month  of 
November,  in  quest  of  adventures  of  a  certain  description, 
had  been  offering  some  impertinence  to  a  female  of  respec- 
table appearance,  whom  he  had  been  following  for  some 
minutes.  He  was  in  the  act  of  putting  his  arm  round 
her  waist,  or  taking  some  similar  liberty,  when  he  was 
suddenly  seized  by  the  collar  from  behind,  and  jerked  off 
the  pavement  so  violently,  that  he  fell  nearly  at  full 
length  in  the  gutter.  This  feat  was  performed  by  the? 
woman's  husband,  who  had  that  moment  rejoined  her, 
having  quitted  her  only  a  very  short  time  before,  to  leave 
a  message  at  one  of  the  coach-offices,  while  she  walked 
on,  being  in  haste.  No  man  of  ordinary  spirit  could  en- 
dure such  rough  handling  tamely.  The  instant,  therefore, 
that  the  prostrate  man  had  recovered  his  footing,  ha 
sprang  towards  his  assailant,  and  struck  him  furiously 
over  the  face  with  an  umbrella.  For  a  moment  the  man 
seemed  disinclined  to  return  the  blow,  owing  to  the  pas- 
sionate dissuasions  of  his  wife;  but  it  was  useless — his 


140  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

English  blood  began  to  boil  under  the  idea  of  submitting 
to  a  blow,  and  hurriedly  exclaiming,  "Wait  a  moment, 
sir," —  he  pushed  his  wife  into  the  shop  adjoining,  telling 
her  to  stay  till  he  returned.    A  small  crowd  stood  round. 

"Now,  by  !  sir,  we  shall  see  which   is  the  better 

man !"  said  he,  again  making  his  appearance,  and  putting 
himself  in  a  boxing  attitude. 

There  was  much  disparity  between  the  destined  com- 
batants, in  points  both  of  skill  and  size.  The  man  last 
named  was  short  in  stature,  but  of  a  square  iron  build ; 
and  it  needed  only  a  glance  at  his  posture  to  see  he  was 
a  scientific,  perhaps  a  thorough-bred,  bruiser.  His  an- 
tagonist, on  the  contrary,  was  a  tall,  handsome,  well-pro- 
portioned, gentlemanly  man,  apparently  not  more  than 
twenty-eight  or  thirty  years  old.  Giving  his  umbrella' 
into  the  hands  of  a  bystander,  and  hurriedly  drawing  oflf 
his  gloves,  he  addressed  himself  to  the  encounter  with  an 
unguarded  impetuosity,  which  left  him  wholly  at  the 
mercy  of  his  cool  and  practised  opponent.  The  latter 
seemed  evidently  inclined  to  play  a  while  with  his  man, 
and  contented  himself  with  stopping  several  heavily-dealt 
blows,  with  so  much  quickness  and  precision  that  every 
one  saw  "the  big  one  had  caught  a  Tartar"  in  the  man  he 
had  provoked.  Watching  his  opportunity,  like  a  tiger 
crouching  noiselessly  in  preparation  for  the  fatal  spring, 
the  short  man  delivered  such  a  slaughtering  left-handed 
hit,  full  in  the  face  of  his  tall  adversary,  accompanied  by  a 
tremendous  "doubling-up"  body-blow,  as  in  an  instant 
brought  him  senseless  to  the  ground.  He  who  now  lay 
stunned  and  blood-smeared  on  the  pavement,  surrounded 
by  the  rabble,  jeering  the  fallen  "swell,"  and  exulting  at 
seeing  the  punishment  he  had  received  for  his  imperti- 
nence, was,  as  the  conqueror  pithily  told  them,  standing 
over  his  prostrate  foe,  the  Honorable  St.  John  Henry 
Effingstone,  presumptive  heir  to  a  marquisate ;  and  the 
victor,  who  walked  coolly  away  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened, was  Tom ,  the  prize-fighter. 

Such  was  the  occasion  of  my  first  introduction  to  Mr. 
Effingstone ;  for  I  was  driving  by  at  the  time  this  occur- 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  141 

rence  took  place — and  my  coachman,  seeing  the  crowd, 
slackened  the  pace  of  his  horses,  and  I  desired  him  to 
stop.  Hearing  some  voices  cry,  "Take  him  to  a  doctor," 
I  let  myself  out,  announced  my  profession,  and,  seeing  a 
man  of  very  gentlemanly  and  superior  appearance  cov- 
ered with  blood,  and  propped  against  the  knee  of  one  of 
the  people  round,  I  had  him  brought  into  my  carriage, 
saying  I  would  drive  him  to  his  residence  close  by,  which 

his  card  showed  me  was  in  Street.     Though  much 

disfigured,  and  in  great  pain,  he  had  not  received  any  in- 
jury likely  to  be  attended  with  danger.  He  soon  re- 
covered ;  but  an  infinitely  greater  annoyance  remained 
after  all  the  other  symptoms  had  disappeared — his  left 
eye  was  sent  into  deep  mourning,  which  threatened  to 
last  for  some  weeks ;  and  could  anything  be  more  vexa- 
tious to  a  gay  man  about  town  ?  for  such  was  Mr.  Effing- 
stone — but  no  ordinary  one. 

He  did  not  belong  to  that  crowded  class  of  essenced 
fops,  or  silly  coxcombs,  hung  in  gold  chains,  and  bespan- 
gled with  a  profusion  of  rings,  brooches,  pins,  and  quiz- 
zing-glasses, who  are  to  be  seen,  in  fine  weather,  glisten- 
ing about  town  like  fireflies  in  India.  He  was  no  walk- 
ing advertisement  of  the  superior  articles  or  his  tailor, 
mercer,  and  jeweler.  No — Mr.  Effingstone  was  really 
a  man  about  town,  and  yet  no  puppy.  He  was  worse — 
an  abandoned  profligate,  a  systematic  debauchee,  an  ir- 
reclaimable reprobate.  He  stood  pre-eminent  amidst  the 
throng  of  men  of  fashion — a  glaring  tower  of  guilt,  such 
as  Milton  represents  Satan, 

In  shape  and  gesture  proudly  eminent. 

among  his  gloomy  battalions  of  fallen  spirits.  He  had 
nothing  in  common  with  the  set  of  men  I  have  been  al- 
luding to,  but  that  he  chose  to  drink  deeper  from  the  same 
foul  and  maddening  cup  of  dissipation.  Their  minor  fool- 
eries and  "naughtiness,"  as  he  termed  them,  he  despised. 
Had  he  not  neglected  a  legitimate  exercise  of  his  trans- 
cendent talents,  he  might  have  become,  with  little  effort, 
one  of  the  first  men  of  his  age.    As  for  knowledge,  his 


142  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

powers  of  acquisition  seemed  unbounded.  Whatever  he 
read  he  made  his  own;  good  or  bad,  he  never  forgot  it. 
He  was  equally  intimate  with  ancient  and  modern 
scholarship.  His  knowledge  of  the  varieties  and  distinc- 
tions between  the  ancient  sects  of  philosophers  was  more 
minutely  accurate,  and  more  successfully  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  modern,  than  I  am  aware  of  having  ever  known 
in  another.  Few,  very  few,  that  I  have  been  acquainted 
with,  could  make  a  more  imposing  and  effective  display 
of  the  "dazzling  fence  of  logic."  Fallacies,  though  never 
so  subtle,  so  exquisitely  vraiscmhlant — so  "twin-formed  to 
truth" — and  calculated  to  evade  the  very  ghost  of  Aris- 
totle himself,  melted  away  instantaneously  before  the 
first  glance  of  his  eye.  His  powers  were  acknowledged 
and  feared  by  all  who  knew  him — as  many  a  discomfited 
sciolist  now  living  can  bear  testimony.  His  acuteness  of 
perception  was  not  less  remarkable.  He  anticipated  all 
you  meant  to  convey,  before  you  had  uttered  more  than  a 
word  or  two.  It  was  useless  to  kick  or  wince  under  such 
treatment — to  find  your  own  words  thrust  back  again 
down  your  own  throat  as  useless,  than  which  few  things 
are  more  provoking  to  men  with  the  slightest  spice  of 
petulance.  A  conviction  of  his  overwhelming  power  kept 
you  passive  beneath  his  grasp.  He  had,  as  it  were,  ex- 
tracted and  devoured  the  kernel,  while  you  were  attempt- 
ing to  decide  on  the  best  method  of  breaking  the  shell. 
His  wit  was  radiant,  and,  fed  by  fancy  both  lively  and 
powerful,  it  flashed  and  sparkled  on  all  sides  of  you,  like 
lightning.  He  had  a  strong  bent  towards  sarcasm,  and 
that  of  the  bitterest  and  fiercest  kind.  If  you  chanced  un- 
expectedly to  become  its  subject,  you  sneaked  away  con- 
sciously seared  to  your  very  centre.  If,  however,  you 
really  wished  to  acquire  information  from  him,  no  one 
was  readier  to  open  the  storehouses  of  his  learning.  You 
had  but  to  start  a  topic  requiring  elucidation  of  any  kind, 
and  presently  you  saw,  grouped  around  it,  numerous,  ap- 
propriate, and  beautiful  illustrations,  from  almost  every 
region  of  knowledge.  But  then  you  could  scarcely  fail 
to  observe  the  spirit  of  pride  and  ostentation  which  per- 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  143 

vaded  the  whole.  If  he  failed  anywhere — and  who  liv- 
ing is  equally  excellent  in  all  things? — it  was  in  physics. 
Yes,  here  he  was  foiled.  He  lacked  the  patience,  perse- 
verance, and  almost  exclusive  attention,  which  the  cold 
and  haughty  goddess  presiding  over  it  invariably  ex- 
acts from  her  suitors.  Still,  however,  he  had  that  showy 
general  intimacy  with  its  outlines,  and  some  of  its  lead- 
ing features,  which  earned  him  greater  applause  than  was 
doled  out  reluctantly  and  suspiciously  to  the  profoundest 
masters  of  science. 

Yet  Mr.  Effingstone,  though  such  as  I  have  described 
him,  gained  no  distinctions  at  Oxford;  and  why?  because 
he  knew  that  all  acknowledged  his  intellectual  su- 
premacy: that  he  had  but  to  extend  his  foot,  and  stand 
on  the  proudest  pedestal  of  academical  eminence.  This 
satisfied  him.  And  another  reason  for  his  conduct  once 
slipped  out  in  the  course  of  my  intimacy  with  him :  his 
overweening,  I  may  say  almost  unparalleled  pride,  could 
not  brook  the  idea  of  the  remotest  chance  of  failure !  The 
same  thing  accounted  for  another  manifestation  of  his 
peculiar  character :  no  one  could  conceive  how,  when,  or 
where,  he  came  by  his  wonderful  knowledge.  He  never 
seemed  to  be  doing  anything;  no  one  ever  saw  him  read- 
ing or  writing,  and  yet  he  came  into  society  au  fait  at 
almost  everything!  All  this  was  attributable  to  his  pride, 
or,  I  should  say,  more  correctly,  his  vanity.  "Results, 
not  processes,  are  for  the  public  eye,"  he  was  fond  of  say- 
ing. In  plain  English,  he  would  shine  before  men,  but 
Avould  not  that  they  should  know  the  pains  and  expense 
with  which  his  lamp  was  fed. 

And  this  highly  gifted  individual  it  was  who  chose  to 
track  the  waters  of  dissipation,  to  career  among  the  sunk 
rocks,  shoals,  and  quicksands,  even  till  he  sank  and  per- 
ished in  them !  By  some  strange  omission  in  his  moral 
conformation,  his  soul  seemed  utterly  destitute  of  any 
sympathies  for  virtue ;  and  whenever  I  looked  at  him,  it 
was  with  feelings  of  concern,  alarm,  and  wonder,  akin 
to  those  with  which  one  might  contemplate  the  frightful 
creature  brought  into  being  by  Frankenstein.     Mr.  Ef- 


144  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

fingstone  seemed  either  wholly  incapable  of  appreciating 
moral  excellence,  or  wilfully  contemptuous  of  it. 
While  reflecting  carefully  on  his  idioavyKCaaia,  which  sev- 
eral years'  intimacy  gave  me  many  opportunities  of  doing, 
and  endeavoring  to  account  for  his  fixed  inclination  to- 
wards vice,  and  that  in  its  most  revolting  form  and  most 
frantic  excesses,  at  a  time  when  he  was  consciously  pos- 
sessed of  such  capabilities  of  excellence  of  every  descrip- 
tion— it  has  struck  me  that  a  little  incident,  which  came 
to  my  knowledge  casually,  afforded  a  clue  to  the  whole — 
a  key  to  his  character. 

He  one  day  chanced  to  overhear  a  distinguished  friend 
of  his  father's  lamenting  that  a  man  "of  Mr,  St.  John's 
vast  powers"  could  prostitute  them  in  the  manner  he  did; 
and  the  reply  made  by  his  father  was,  with  a  sigh,  that 
"St,  John  was  a  splendid  sinner,  and  he  knew  it."  From 
that  hour,  the  keystone  was  fixed  in  the  arch  of  his  un- 
alterable, irreclaimable  depravity.  He  felt  a  satanic  sat- 
isfaction in  the  consciousness  of  being  an  object  of  re- 
gret and  wonder  among  those  who  most  enthusiastically 
acknowledged  his  intellectual  supremacy.  How  infinitely 
less  stimulating  to  his  morbid  sensibilities  would  be  the 
placid  approvals  of  virtue — a  commonplace  acquiescence 
in  the  ordinary  notions  of  virtue  and  religion !  He 
wished  rather  to  stand  out  from  the  multitude — to  be 
severed  from  the  herd.  "Better  to  reign  in  hell  than 
serve  in  heaven,"  he  thought,  and  he  was  not  long  in  sink- 
ing many  fathoms  lower  into  the  abyss  of  atheism.  In 
fact,  he  never  pretended  to  the  possession  of  religious 
principle ;  he  had  acquiesced  in  the  reputed  truths  of 
Christianity  like  his  neighbors ;  or,  at  least,  kept  doubts 
to  himself,  till  he  fancied  his  reputation  required  him  to 
join  the  crew  of  fools  who  blazon  their  unbelief.  This 
was  "damned  fine." 

Conceive,  now,  such  a  man  as  I  have  truly,  but  per- 
haps imperfectly,  described  Mr.  Effingstone — in  the  pos- 
session of  £3,000  a-year — perfectly  his  own  master — 
with  a  fine  person  and  most  fascinating  manners — cap- 
able of  acquiring  with  ease  every  fashionable  accomplish- 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  145 

ment — the  idol,  the  dictator  of  all  he  met — and  with  a 
dazzling  circle  of  friends  and  relatives ;  conceive,  for  a 
moment,  such  a  man  as  this  let  loose  upon  town !  Will  it 
occasion  wonder,  if  the  reader  is  told  how  soon  nocturnal 
studies,  and  the  ambition  of  retaining  his  intellectual 
character,  which  prompted  them,  were  supplanted  by  a 
blind,  absorbing,  reckless  devotion — for  he  was  incapable 
of  anything  but  in  extremes — to  the  gaming-table,  the 
turf,  the  cockpit,  the  ring,  the  theatres,  and  daily  and 
nightly  attendance  on  those  haunts  of  detestable  de- 
bauchery, which  I  cannot  foul  my  pen  with  naming?-^ 
that  a  two  or  three  years'  intimacy  with  such  scenes  as 
these,  had  conduced,  in  the  first  instance,  to  shed  a  haze 
of  indistinctness  over  the  multifarious  acquirements  of  his 
earlier  and  better  days,  and  finally  to  blot  out  large  por- 
tions with  blank  oblivion? — that  his  soul's  sun  shone 
in  dim  discolored  rays  through  the  fogs — the  vault-vapors 
of  profligacy? — that  prolonged  desuetude  was  gradually, 
though  unheededly,  benumbing  and  palsying  his  intel- 
lectual faculties? — that  a  constant  "feeding  on  garbage" 
had  vitiated  and  depraved  his  whole  system,  both  physi- 
cal and  mental? — and  that,  to  conclude,  there  was  a 
lamentable,  and  almost  incredible  contrast  between  the 
glorious  being,  Mr.  Effingstone,  at  twenty-one,  and  that 
poor  faded  creature,  that  prematurely  superannuated  de- 
bauchee, Mr.  Effingstone,  at  twenty-seven? 

I  feel  persuaded  I  shall  not  be  accused  of  traveling  out 
of  the  legitimate  sphere  of  these  "Passages" — of  for- 
saking the  tract  of  professional  detail — in  having  thus  at- 
tempted to  give  the  reader  some  faint  idea  of  the  intel- 
lectual character  of  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  young 
men  that  ever  flashed,  meteor-like,  across  the  sphere  of 
my  own  observation.  Not  that,  in  the  ensuing  pages,  it 
will  be  in  my  power  to  exhibit  him  such  as  he  has  been 
described,  doing  and  uttering  things  worthy  of  his  great 
powers.  Alas !  alas !  he  was  "fallen,  fallen,  fallen,"  from 
that  altitude  long  before  it  became  my  province  to  know 
him  professionally.  His  decline  and  fall  are  alone  what 
remain  for  me  to  describe.     I  am  painting  from  the  life, 


146  THE   DIARY    OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

and  those  are  living  who  know  it — that  I  am  describing 
the  character  and  career  of  him  who  once  lived,  but  who 
deliberately  immolated  himself  before  the  shrine  of  de- 
bauchery— and  they  can,  with  a  quaking  heart,  attest 
the  truth  of  the  few  bitter  and  black  passages  of  his  re- 
maining history,  which  here  follow. 

The  reader  is  acquainted  with  the  circumstances  at- 
tending my  first  professional  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Ef- 
fingstone.  Those  of  the  second  are  in  perfect  keeping. 
He  had  been  prosecuting  an  enterprise  of  seduction,  the 
interest  of  which  was,  in  his  eyes,  enhanced  a  thousand- 
fold, on  discovering  that  the  object  of  his  illicit  atten- 
tions was  married.  She  was,  I  understood,  a  very  hand- 
some, fashionable  woman;  and  she  fell,  for  Mr.  Effing- 
stone  was  irresistible !  He  was  attending  one  of  their 
assignations  one  night,  which  she  was  unexpectedly  un- 
able to  keep ;  and  he  waited  so  long  at  the  place  of  meet- 
ing, but  slightly  clad,  in  the  cold  and  inclement  weather, 
that  when  he  returned  home  at  an  early  hour  in  the 
morning,  intensely  chagrined,  he  began  to  feel  ill.  He 
could  not  rise  to  breakfast.  He  grew  rapidly  worse ;  and 
when  I  was  summoned  to  his  bedside,  he  exhibited  all  the 
symptoms  of  a  very  severe  inflammation  of  the  lungs. 
One  or  two  concurrent  causes  of  excitement  and  chagrin 
aggravated  his  illness.  He  had  been  very  unfortunate  in 
betting  on  the  Derby ;  and  was  threatened  with  an  arrest 
from  his  tailor,  to  whom  he  owed  some  hundreds  of 
pounds,  which  he  could  not  possibly  pay.  Again — a 
wealthy,  remote  member  of  the  family,  his  god-father, 
having  heard  of  his  profligacy,  altered  his  will,  and  left 
every  farthing  he  had  in  the  world,  amounting  to  up- 
wards of  fifty  or  sixty  thousand  pounds,  to  a  charitable 
institution,  the  whole  of  which  had  been  originally  des- 
tined to  Mr.  Effingstone.  The  only  notice  taken  of  him 
in  the  old  gentleman's  will  was,  "To  St.  John  Henry 
Effingstone,  my  unworthy  godson,  I  bequeath  the  sum 
of  five  pounds  sterling,  to  purchase  a  Bible  and  Prayer- 
Book,  believing  the  time  may  yet  come  when  he  will  re- 
quire them." — These  circumstances,  I  say,  added  to  one 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  147 

or  two  other  irritating  concomitants,  such  as  will  some- 
times succeed  in  stinging  even  your  men  about  town  into 
something  like  reflection,  brief,  bitter,  and  futile  though 
it  be,  contributed  to  accelerate  the  inroads  of  his  dan- 
gerous disorder.  We  were  compelled  to  adopt  such  pow- 
erful antiphlogistic  treatment  as  reduced  him  to  within 
an  inch  of  his  life.  Previous  to,  and  in  the  course  of,  this 
illness,  he  exhibited  one  or  two  characteristic  traits. 

"Doctor — is  delirium  usually  an  attendant  on  this  dis- 
order?" he  inquired  one  morning.  I  told  him  it  was — 
very  frequently. 

"Ah !  then,  I'd  better  become  ayAuami,  with  one  of  old, 
and  bite  out  my  tongue ;  foi»,  God  knows !  my  life  won't 
bear  ripping  up !  I  shall  say  what  will  horrify  you  all ! 
Delirium  blackens  a  poor  fellow  sadly  among  his  friends, 
doesn't  it?  Babbling  devil — what  can  silence  it?  If  you 
should  hear  me  beginning  to  let  out,  suffocate  toe — do, 
doctor." 

"Any  chance  of  my  giving  the  great  cut  this  time,  doc- 
tor, eh?"  he  inquired  the  same  evening  with  great  appar- 
ent nonchalance.  Seeing  my  puzzled  air — for  I  did  not 
exactly  comprehend  the  expression  "great  cut" — he  asked 
quickly,  "Doctor,  shall  I  die,  d'ye  think?"  I  told  him  I 
certainly  apprehended  great  danger,  for  his  symptoms  be- 
gan to  look  very  serious.  "Then  the  ship  must  be  cleared 
for  action.  What  is  the  best  way  of  insuring  recovery, 
provided  it  is  to  be?"  I  told  him  that,  among  other 
things  he  must  be  kept  very  quiet — must  not  have  his 
mind  excited  by  visitors. 

"Nurse,  ring  the  bell  for  George,"  said  he,  suddenly  in- 
terrupting me.  The  valet,  in  a  few  moments,  answered 
the  summons.  "George,  d'ye  value  your  neck,  eh?"  The 
man  bowed.  "Then,  harkee,  see  you  don't  let  in  a  living 
soul  to  see  me,  except  the  medical  people.  Friends,  rela- 
tives, mother,  brothers,  sisters, — harkee,  sirrah !  shut 
them    all   out — And,    duns — m^ind — duns    especially.      If 

should  come  and  get  inside  the  door,  kick  him  out 

again ;  and  if comes,  and  ,  and  ,  tell  them, 

that  if  they  don't  mind  what  they  are  about,  I'll  die,  if 


148  THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

it's  only  to  cheat  them."  The  man  bowed  and  retired. 
"And — and — doctor,  what  else?" 

"If  you  should  appear  approaching  your  end,  Mr.  Ef- 
fingstone,  you  would  allow  us,  perhaps,  to  call  in  a  clergy- 
man to  assist  you  in  your  devo " 

"What — eh — a  parson?    Oh, it !  no,  no — out  of  the 

question — non  ad  rem,  I  assure  you,"  he  replied  hastily. 
"D'ye  think  I  can't  roll  down  to  hell  fast  enough,  with- 
out having  my  wheels  oiled  by  their  hypocritical  hum- 
bug? Don't  name  it  again,  doctor,  on  any  account,  I 
beg." 

*  *  *  He  grew  rapidly  worse,  but  ultimately  recov- 
ered. His  injunctions  were  obeyed  to  the  letter;  for  his 
man  George  idolized  his  master,  and  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
all  applications  for  admission  to  his  master's  chamber.  It 
was  well  there  was  no  one  of  his  friends  or  relatives  pres- 
ent to  listen  to  his  ravings ;  for  the  disgorgings  of  his  pol- 
luted soul  were  horrible.  His  progress  towards  convales- 
cence was  by  very  slow  steps ;  for  the  energies  of  both 
mind  and  body  had  been  dreadfully  shaken.  His  ill- 
ness, however,  had  worked  little  or  no  alteration  in  his 
moral  sentiment — or  if  anything,  for  the  worse. 

"It  won't  do  at  all,  will  it,  doctor?"  said  Mr.  Effing- 
stone,  when  I  was  visiting  him  one  morning  at  the  house 

of  a  titled  relation  in  Square,  whither  he  had  been 

removed  to  prepare  for  a  jaunt  to  the  Continent. 

"What  do  you  allude  to,  Mr.  Effingstone? — What 
won't  do?"  I  asked,  for  I  knew  not  to  what  he  alluded, 
as  the  question  was  the  first  break  after  a  long  pause  in 
our  conversation,  which  had  been  quite  of  a  miscellan- 
eous character.     "What  won't  do?" 

"Why,  the  sort  of  life  I  have  been  leading  about  town 
these  two  or  three  last  years,"  he  replied.  "Egad!  doc- 
tor, it  has  nearly  wound  me  up,  has  not  it?" 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Effingstone,  I  think  so.  You  have  had  a 
very,  very  narrow  escape — have  been  within  a  hair's- 
breadth  of  your  grave." 

"Ay !"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  sigh,  passing  his  hand  rap- 
idly over  his  noble  forehead,  "  'twas  a  complete  toss  up 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  149 

whether  I  should  go  or  stay !  I  look  somewhat  shaken — 
imc  roue  qui  sc  deraye — do  I  not,  faith?  But  come,  come, 
the  good  ship  has  weathered  the  storm  bravely,  though 
she  has  been  battered  a  little  in  her  timbers!"  said  he, 
striking  his  breast;  "and  she's  fit  for  sea  again  already — 
with  a  little  calking,  that  is.  Heigho!  what  a  fool  ill- 
ness makes  a  man !  I've  had  some  of  the  strangest,  oddest 
twingings — such  gleams  and  visions!  What  d'ye  think, 
doctor,  I've  had  dinging  in  my  ears  night  and  day  like 
a  dismal  church  bell?  Why,  a  passage  from  old  Persius, 
and  this  is  it  (you  know  I  was  a  dab  at  Latin,  once,  doc- 
tor), rotundo  ore — 

Magne  Pater  divum!  sasvos  punire  tyrannos 
Haud  alia  ratione  velis  quum  dira  libido 
Moverit  ingenium,  ferventi  tincta  veneno; 
— Virtutem   videant — intabescantque   relictal* 

True  and  forcible  enough,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied ;  and  expressed  my  satisfaction  at  his 
altered  sentiments.  "He  might  rely  on  it,"  I  ventured 
to  assure  him,  "that  the  paths  of  virtue,  of  religion" — I 
was  getting  on  too  fast. 

"Poh,  poh,  doctor!  No  humbug,  I  beg — come,  come, 
no  humbug — no  nonsense  of  that  sort !  I  meant  nothing 
of  the  kind,  I  can  assure  you !  I'm  a  better  Bentley  than 
you,  I  see!  What  d'ye  think  is  my  reading  of  virtutem 
videant"? — Why,  let  them  get  wives  when  they're  worn 
out,  and  want  nursing — ah,  ha  ! — Curse  me ! — I'd  go  on 
raking — ay,  I  would,  stern  as  you  look  about  it! — but  I'm 
too  much  the  worse  for  wear  at  present — I  must  recruit 
a  little." 

"Mr.  Effingstone,  I  am  really  confounded  at  hearing 
you  talk  in  so  light  a  strain !  Forgive  me,  my  dear  sir, 
but " 

"Fiddle-de-dee,  my  dear  doctor!  Of  course,  I'll  for- 
give you,  if  you  won't  repeat  the  offense.  'Tis  unpleas- 
ant— a  nuisance — 'tis,  upon  my  soul !  Well,  however, 
what  do  you  think  is  the  upshot  of  the  whole — the  prac- 
tical point — the  winding-up  of  affairs — the  balancing  of 

*Pers.  Sat.  iii. 


150  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

the  books" — he  delighted  in  accumulations  of  this  sort 
— "the  shutting  up  of  the  volume,  eh  ?    I'm  going  to  get 

married — I  am  by !  I'm  at  dead  low-water  mark  in 

money  matters;  and,  in  short,  I  repeat  it,  I  intend  to 
marry — a  gold  bag!  A  good  move,  isn't  it?  But,  to  be 
candid,  I  can't  take  all  the  credit  of  the  thing  to  myself 
either,  having  been  a  trifle  bored,  bullied,  badgered  into 
it  by  the  family.  They  say  the  world  cries  shame  on  me! 
Simpletons,  why  listen  to  the  world ! — I  only  laugh,  ha, 
ha,  ha !  and  cry  curse  on  the  world ;  and  so  we  are  quits 
with  one  another ! — By  the  way,  the  germ  of  that's  to  be 
found  in  that  worthy  old  fellow  Plautus !" 

All  this,  uttered  with  Mr.  Effingstone's  characteristic 
emphasis  and  rapidity  of  tone  and  manner,  conveyed  his 
real  sentiments ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  carried 
them  into  effect.  He  spent  two  or  three  months  in  the 
south  of  France ;  and  not  long  after  his  return  to  Eng- 
land, with  restored  health  and  energies,  he  singled  out 
from  among  the  many,  many  women  who  would  have 
exulted  in  being  an  object  of  the  attentions  of  the  ac- 
complished, the  distingue  Effingstone,  Lady  E , 

the  very  flower  of  English  aristocratical  beauty,  daughter 
of  a  distinguished  peer,  and  sole  heiress  to  the  immense 
estates  of  an  aged  baronet  in shire. 

The  unceasing,  exclusive  attentions  exacted  from  her 
suitor  by  this  haughty  young  beauty,  operated  for  a  while 
as  a  salutary  check  upon  Mr.  Effingstone's  reviving  pro- 
pensities to  dissipation.  So  long  as  there  was  the  most 
distant  possibility  of  his  being  rejected,  he  was  her  will- 
ing slave  at  all  hours,  on  all  occasions,  yielding  implicit 
obedience  and  making  incessant  sacrifices  of  his  own  per- 
sonal conveniences.  As  soon,  however,  as  he  had  "run 
down  the  game,"  as  he  called  it,  and  the  lady  was  so  far 
compromised,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  as  to  render  re- 
treat next  to  impossible,  he  began  to  slacken  in  his  at- 
tentions ;  not,  however,  so  palpably  and  visibly  as  to 
alarm  either  her  ladyship,  or  any  of  their  mutual  rela- 
tions or  friends.    He  compensated  for  the  attentions  he 


The  diary  of  a  late  physician        isi 

was  obliged  to  pay  her  by  clay,  by  the  most  extravagant 
nightly  excesses.  The  pursuits  of  intellect,  of  literature, 
and  philosophy,  were  utterly,  and  apparently  finally  dis- 
carded— and  for  what?  For  wallowing  swinishly  in  the 
foulest  sinks  of  depravity,  herding  among  the  acknowl- 
edged outcasts,  commingling  intimately  with  the  very 
scum  and  refuse  of  society,  battening  on  the  rottenness 
of  obscenity,  and  revelling  amid  the  hellish  orgies  cele- 
brated nightly  in  haunts  of  nameless  infamy.  Gambling, 
gluttony,  drunkenness,  harlotry,  blasphemy! — 

Mr.    Efilingstone,    one    morning    accompanied    Lady 

E and  her  mother  to  one  of  the  fashionable  shops,  for 

the  purpose  of  aiding  the  former  in  her  choice  of  some 
beautiful  Chinese  toys,  to  complete  the  ornamental  de- 
partment of  her  boudoir.  After  having  purchased  some 
of  the  most  splendid  and  costly  articles  which  had  been 
exhibited,  the  ladies  drew  on  their  gloves,  and  gave  each 
an  arm  to  Mr.  Effingstone  to  lead  them  to  the  carriage. 
Lady  E was  in  a  flutter  of  unusually  animated  spir- 
its, and  was  complimenting  Mr.  Effingstone,  in  enthus- 
iastic terms,  on  the  taste  with  which  he  had  guided  their 
purchases.  They  had  left  the  shop  door,  and  the  foot- 
man was  letting  down  the  carriage  steps,  when  a  very 
young  woman,  elegantly  dressed,  who  happened  to  be 
passing  at  that  moment,  seemingly  in  a  state  of  deep  de- 
jection, suddenly  started  on  seeing  and  recognizing  Mr. 
Effingstone,  placed  herself  between  them  and  the  car- 
riage, and,  lifting  her  clasped  hands,  exclaimed  in  pierc- 
ing accents,  "Oh,  Henry,  Henry,  Henry!  How  cruelly 
you  have  deserted  your  poor  ruined  girl !  What  have  I 
done  to  deserve  it !  I'm  broken  hearted,  and  can  rest  no- 
where!   I've  been  walking  up  and  down  M Street 

nearly  three  hours  this  morning  to  get  a  sight  of  you,  but 
could  not!     Oh,  Henry,  how  dififerently  you  said  you 

would  behave  before  you  brought  me  up  from shire !" 

All  this  was  uttered  with  the  impassioned  vehemence 
and  rapidity  of  highly  excited  feelings,  and  uninterrupt- 
edly ;  for  both  Lady  E and  her  mother  seemed  per- 
fectly petrified,  and  stood  pale  and  speechless.     Mr.  Ef- 


152  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

fingstone,  too,  was  for  a  moment  thunderstruck;  but  an 
instant's  reflection  showed  him  the  necessity  of  acting 
with  decision  one  way  or  another.  Though  deadly  pale, 
he  did  not  disclose  any  other  symptom  of  agitation ;  and 
with  an  assumed  air  of  astonishment  and  irrecognition, 
exclaimed  concernedly,  "Poor  creature!  unfortunate 
thing!    Some  strange  mistake  this!" 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no,  Henry,  it's  no  mistake!  You  know 
me  well  enough — I'm  your  own  poor  Hannah !" 

"Poh,  poll !  nonsense,  woman ;  I  never  saw  you  before." 

"Never  saw  me!  never  saw  me!"  almost  shrieked  the 
girl ;  "and  is  it  come  to  this?" 

"Woman,  don't  be  foolish — cease,  or  we  must  give 
you  over  to  an  officer  as  an  impostor,"  said  Mr.  Effing- 
stone,  the  perspiration  bursting  from  every  pore.  "Come, 
come,  your  ladyships  had  better  allow  me  to  hand  you 
into  the  carriage.     See,  there's  a  crowd  collecting." 

"No,  Mr.  Effingstone,"  replied  Lady  E 's  mother 

with  excessive  agitation ;  "this  very  singular,  strange  af- 
fair— if  it  is  a  mistake — had  better  be  set  right  on  the 
spot.  Here,  young  woman,  can  you  tell  me  what  is  the 
name  of  this  gentleman?"  pointing  to  Mr.  Effingstone. 

"Effingstone — Effingstone,  to  be  sure,  ma'am,"  sobbed 
the  girl,  looking  imploringly  at  him.  The  instant  she 
had  uttered  his  name,  the  two  ladies,  dreadfully  agitated, 
withdrew  their  arms  from  his,  and,  with  the  footman's 
assistance,  stepped  into  their  carriage,  and  drove  off  rap- 
idly, leaving  Mr.  Effingstone  bowing,  kissing  his  hand 
and  assuring  them  that  he  should  "soon  settle  this  absurd 

affair,"  and  be  at Street  before  their  ladyships.  They 

heard  him  not,  however ;  for  the  instant  the  carriage  had 
set  off.  Lady  E fainted. 

"Young  woman,  you're  quite  mistaken  in  me — I  never 
saw  you  before.  Here  is  my  card — come  to  me  at  eight 
to-night,"  he  added,  in  an  under-tone,  so  as  to  be  heard 
by  none  but  her  addressed.  She  took  the  hint,  appeared 
pacified,  and  each  withdrew  different  ways — Mr.  Effing- 
stone almost  suffocated  with  suppressed  execrations.  He 
flung  himself  into  a  hackney  coach  and  ordered  it  to 


THE   DIARY    OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  153 

Street,  intending  to  assure  Lady  E ,  with  a  smile,  that 

he  had  "instantly  put  an  end  to  the  ridiculous  affair." 
His  knock,  however,  brought  him  a  prompt  "Not  at 
home,"  though  their  carriage  had  but  the  instant  before 
driven  from  the  door.  He  jumped  again  into  the  coach, 
almost  gnashing  his  teeth  with  fury,  drove  home,  and 
despatched  his  groom  with  a  note,  and  orders  to  wait  an 
answer.     He  soon  brought  it  back,  with  the  intelligence 

that  Lord  and  Lady  had  given  their  porter  orders 

to  reject  all  letters  or  messages  from  Mr.  Effingstone ! 
So  there  was  an  end  of  all  hopes  from  that  quarter.  This 
is  the  history  of  what  was  mysteriously  hinted  at  in  one 
of  the  papers  of  the  day,  as  a  "strange  occurrence  in  high 
life,  which  would  probably  break  off  a  matrimonial  affair 
long  considered  as  settled."  But  how  did  IMr.  Effing- 
stone receive  his  ruined  dupe  at  the  appointed  hour  of 
eight?    He  answered  her  expected  knock  himself. 

"Now,  look, 1"  said  he  fiercely,  extending  his  arm 

with  clenched  fist  towards  her,  "if  ever  you  presume  to 

darken  my  door  again,  by ,  I'll  murder  you!  I  give 

you  fair  warning.  You've  ruined  me — you  have,  you  ac- 
cursed   !" 

"Oh,  my  God!  What  am  I  to  do  to  live?  What  is  to 
become  of  me?"  groaned  the  victim. 

"Do?  Why,  go  and  be !    And  here's  something  to 

help  you  on  your  way — there!"  and  flinging  her  a  cheque 
for  £50,  he  shut  the  door  violently  in  her  face. 

Mr.  Effingstone  now  plunged  into  profligacy  with  a 
spirit  of  almost  diabolical  desperation.  Divers  dark  hints 
• — stinging  innuendoes — appeared  in  the  papers,  of  his 
disgraceful  notoriety  in  certain  scenes  of  an  abominable 
description.  But  he  laughed  at  them.  His  family  at 
length  cast  him  off,  and  refused  to  recognize  him  till  he 
chose  to  alter  his  courses — to  make  the  "amende"  to  so- 
ciety. 

Mr.  Effingstone  was  boxing  one  morning  with  Belasco 
— I  think  it  was — at  the  latter's  rooms ;  and  was  prepar- 
ing to  plant  a  hit  which  the  fighter  had  defied  him  to  do, 
when  he  suddenly  dropped  his  guard,  turned  pale,  and. 


154  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

m  a  moment  or  two,  fell  fainting  into  the  arms  of  the  as- 
tounded boxer.  He  had,  several  days  previously,  sus- 
pected himself  the  subject  of  indisposition — how  could  it 
be  otherwise,  keeping  such  hours,  and  living  such  a  life 
as  he  did  ? — but  not  of  so  serious  a  nature  as  to  prevent 
him  from  going  out  as  usual.  As  soon  as  he  had  re- 
covered, and  swallowed  a  few  drops  of  spirits  and  water, 
he  drove  home,  intending  to  have  sent  immediately  for 

Mr. ,  the  well-known  surgeon ;  but,  on  arriving  at  his 

rooms,  he  found  a  traveling  carriage-and-four  waiting  be- 
fore the  door,  for  the  purpose  of  conveying  him  instantly 
to  the  bedside  of  his  dying  mother,  in  a  distant  part  of 
England,  as  she  wished  personally  to  communicate  to  him 
something  of  importance  before  she  died.  This  he  learned 
from  two  of  his  relatives  who  were  up-stairs  giving  di- 
rections to  his  servant  to  pack  up  his  clothes,  and  make 
other  preparations  for  his  journey,  so  that  nothing  might 
detain  him  from  setting  ofi*  the  instant  he  arrived  at  his 
rooms.  He  was  startled — alarmed — confounded  at  all 
this.  Good  God !  he  thought,  what  was  to  become  of 
him?  He  was  utterly  unfit  to  undertake  a  journey,  re- 
quiring instant  medical  attendance,  which  had  been  too 
long  deferred ;  for  his  dissipation  had  already  made  rapid 
inroads  on  his  constitution.  Yet  what  was  to  be  done? 
His  situation  was  such  as  could  not  be  communicated  to 
his  relatives,  for  he  did  not  choose  to  encounter  their  sar- 
castic reproaches.    He  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  get  into 

the  carriage  with  them,  go  down  to shire,  and,  when 

there,  devise  some  plausible  pretext  for  returning  in- 
stantly to  town.  That,  however,  he  found  impracticable. 
His  mother  would  not  trust  him  out  of  her  sight  one  in- 
stant, night  or  day,  but  kept  his  hand  close  locked  in  hers  ; 
he  was  also  surrounded  by  the  congregated  members  of 
the  family,  and  could  literally  scarce  stir  out  of  the  house 
an  instant.  He  dissembled  his  illness  with  tolerable  suc- 
cess, till  his  aggravated  agonies  drove  him  almost  beside 
himself. 

Without  breathing  a  syllable  to  any  one  but  his  own 
man,  whom  he  took  with  him,  he  suddenly  left  the  house, 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  155 

and,  without  even  a  change  of  clothes,  threw  himself  into 
the  first  London  coach ;  and,  by  two  o'clock  the  next 
day,  was  at  his  own  rooms  in  M Street,  in  a  truly  de- 
plorable condition,  and  attended  by  Sir and  myself. 

The  consternation  of  his  family  in shire  may  be  con- 
ceived. He  coined  some  story  about  being  obliged  to 
stand  second  in  a  duel — but  his  real  state  was  soon  dis- 
covered. Nine  weeks  of  unmitigated  agony  were  passed 
by  Mr.  Effingstone — the  virulence  of  his  disorder  for  a 
long  time  setting  at  defiance  all  that  medicine  could  do. 
This  illness,  also  broke  him  down  sadly,  and  we  recom- 
mended to  him  a  second  sojourn  in  the  south  of  France — 
for  which  he  set  out  the  instant  he  could  undertake  the 
journey  with  safety.  Much  of  his  peculiar  character  was 
developed  in  this  illness ;  that  haughty,  reckless  spirit  of 
defiance — that  contemptuous  disregard  of  the  sacred  con- 
solations of  religion — that  sullen  indifiference  as  to  the 
event  which  might  await  him — which  his  previous  char- 
acter would  have  warranted  me  in  predicting. 

********** 
About  seven  months  from  the  period  last  mentioned,  I 
received,  one  Sunday  evening,  a  note,  written  in  hurried 
characters ;  and  a  hasty  glance  at  the  seal,  which  bore 
Mr.  Effingstone's  crest,  filled  me  with  sudden,  vague  ap- 
prehensions that  some  misfortune  or  other  had  befallen 
him.    This  was  the  note : — 

"Dear  doctor — For  God's  sake,  come  and  see  me  im- 
mediately, for  I  have  this  day  arrived  in  London  from 
the  Continent,  and  am  suffering  the  tortures  of  the 
damned,  both  in  mind  and  body.  Come,  come — in  God's 
name  come  instantly,  or  I  shall  go  mad,  or  destroy  my- 
self. Not  a  word  of  my  return  to  any  one  till  I  have  seen 
you.  You  will  find  me — in  short,  my  man  will  accom- 
pany you. — Yours  in  agony, 

St.  J.  H.  Effingstone. 
"Sunday  Evening,  Nov.  18 — ." 

Tongue  cannot  utter  the  dismay  with  which  this  note 
filled  me.     His  unexpected  return  from  abroad — the  ob- 


156  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

scure  and  distant  part  of  the  town  (St.  George's'  in  the 
East)  where  he  had  established  himself — the  dreadful 
terms  in  which  his  note  was  couched — revived,  amidst  a 
variety  of  vague  conjectures,  certain  fearful  apprehen- 
sions for  him  which  I  had  begun  to  entertain  before  he 
quitted  England.  I  ordered  out  my  chariot  instantly ;  his 
groom  mounted  the  box  to  guide  the  coachman,  and  we 
drove  down  rapidly.  A  sudden  recollection  of  the  con- 
tents of  several  of  the  letters  he  had  sent  me  latterly  from 
the  Continent,  at  my  request,  served  to  corroborate  my 
worst  fears.  I  had  given  him  over  for  lost,  by  the  time 
my  chariot  drew  up  opposite  the  house  where  he  had  so 
strangely  taken  up  his  abode.  The  street  and  neighbor- 
hood, though  not  clearly  discernible  through  the  fogs 
of  a  November  evening,  contrasted  strangely  with  the 
aristocratical  regions  to  which  my  patient  had  been  ac- 
customed.      Row  was  narrow,  and  the  houses  were 

small,  yet  clean  and  creditable  looking. 

On  entering  No.  — ,  the  landlady,  a  person  of  quite  re- 
spectable appearance,  told  me  that  Mr.  Hardy — for  such 
it  seems,  was  the  name  he  chose  to  go  by  in  these  parts 
— had  just  retired  to  rest,  as  he  felt  fatigued  and  poorly, 
and  she  was  just  going  to  make  him  some  gruel.  She 
spoke  in  a  tone  of  flurried  excitation,  and  with  an  air  of 
doubt,  which  were  easily  attributable  to  her  astonish- 
ment at  a  man  of  Mr.  Eifmgstone's  appearance  and  at- 
tendance, with  such  superior  traveling  equipments,  drop- 
ping into  such  a  house  and  neighborhood  as  hers.  I  re- 
paired to  his  bedchamber,  immediately.  It  was  a  small, 
comfortably  furnished  room ;  the  fire  was  lit,  and  two 
candles  were  burning  on  the  drawers.  On  the  bed,  the 
plain  chintz  curtains  of  which  were  only  half  drawn,  lay 
St.  John  Henry  Effingham. 

I  must  pause  a  moment  to  describe  his  appearance,  as 
it  struck  me  at  first  looking  at  him.  It  may  be  thought 
rather  far-fetched,  perhaps,  but  I  could  not  help  com- 
paring him,  in  my  own  mind,  to  a  gem  set  in  the  midst 
of  faded,  tarnished  embroidery.  The  coarse  texture  of  the 
bed-furniture,  the  ordinary  style  of  the  room,  its  con- 


THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  157 

strained  dimensions  contrasted  strikingly  with  the  indi- 
cations of  elegance  and  fashion  afforded  by  the  scattered 
clothes,  toilet,  and  traveling  equipment,  &c. — together 
with  the  person  and  manners — of  its  present  occupant, 
who  lay  on  a  bed  all  tossed  and  tumbled,  with  only  a  few 
minutes'  restfulness.  A  dazzling  diamond  ring  sparkled 
on  the  little  finger  of  his  left  hand,  and  was  the  only  or- 
nament he  ever  wore.  There  was  something  also  in  the 
snowiness,  simplicity,  and  fineness  of  his  linen,  which 
alone  might  have  evidenced  the  superior  consideration  of 
its  wearer,  even  were  that  not  sufficiently  visible  in  the 
noble,  commanding  outlines  of  his  features,  faded  though 
they  were,  and  shrinking  beneath  the  inroads  of  illness 
and  dissipation.  His  forehead  was  white  and  ample ;  his 
eye  had  lost  none  of  its  fire,  though  it  gleamed  with  rest- 
less energy;  in  a  word,  there  was  that  ease  and  loftiness 
in  his  bearing — that  indescribable  manicre  d'etre — which 
are  inseparable  from  high  birth  and  breeding.  So  much 
for  the  appearance  of  things  on  my  entrance. 

"How  are  you,  Mr.  Effingstone — how  are  you,  my  dear 
sir?"  said  I,  sitting  down  by  the  bedside. 

"Doctor — the  pains  of  hell  have  got  hold  upon  me.  I 
am  undone,"  he  replied  gloomily,  in  a  broken  voice,  and 
extended  to  me  a  hand  cold  as  marble. 

"Is  it  as  you  suspected  in  your  last  letter  to  me  from 
Rouen,  Mr.  Effingstone?"  I  inquired  after  a  pause.  He 
shook  his  head,  and  covered  his  face  with  both  hands,  but 
made  me  no  answer.  Thinking  he  was  in  tears,  I  said, 
in  a  soothing  tone — "Come,  come,  my  dear  sir,  don't  be 
carried  away:  don't — " 

"Faugh !  Do  you  take  me  for  a  puling  child,  or  a  wom- 
an, doctor?  Don't  suspect  me  again  of  such  contempti- 
ble pusillanimity,  low  as  I  am  fallen,"  he  replied,  with 
startling  sternness,  removing  his  hands  from  his  face. 

"I  hope,  after  all,  that  matters  are  not  so  desperate  as 
your  fears  would  persuade  you,"  said  I,  feeling  his  pulse. 

"Doctor,  don't  delude  me;  all  is  over.  I  know  it  is. 
A  horrible  death  is  before  me ;  but  I  shall  meet  it  like  a 
man.    I  have  made  my  bed,  and  must  lie  upon  it.    I  have 


158  THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN 

not  only  strewn,  but  lit  the  pile  of  my  own  immolation !" 
"Come,  come,  Mr.  Eflfingstone,  don't  be  so  gloomy — so 
"nopeless ;  the  exhausted  powers  of  nature  may  yet  be  re- 
vived," said  I,  after  having  asked  him  many  questions. 

"Doctor  ,  I'll  soon  put  an  end  to  that  strain  of 

yours.  'Tis  absurd — pardon  me — but  it  is.  Reach  me 
one  of  those  candles,  please."  I  did  so.  "Now,  I'll  show 
you  how  to  translate  a  passage  of  Persius : — 

Tentemus  fauces: — tenero  latet  ulcus  in  ore 
Putre,  quod  haud  deceat  plebeia  radere  beta! 

"Eh,  you  recollect  it?  Well,  look — what  say  you  to 
this;  isn't  it  frightful?"  he  asked  bitterly,  raising  the 
candle  that  I  might  look  into  his  mouth.  It  was,  alas,  as 
he  said !  In  fact,  his  whole  constitution  had  been  long 
tainted,  and  exhibited  symptoms  of  soon  breaking  up  al- 
together. I  feared,  from  the  period  of  my  attendance  on 
him  during  the  illness  which  drove  him  last  to  the  Con- 
tinent, that  it  was  beyond  human  power  to  dislodge  the 
harpy  that  had  fixed  its  cruel  fangs  deeply,  inextricably, 
in  his  vitals.  Could  it  be  wondered  at  even  by  himself? 
Neglect,  in  the  first  instance,  added  to  a  persevering 
course  of  profligacy,  had  doomed  him,  long,  long  before, 
to  premature  and  horrible  decay.  And  though  it  can 
scarcely  be  credited,  it  is  nevertheless  the  fact,  that  even 
on  the  Continent,  in  the  character  of  a  shattered  invalid, 
the  infatuated  man  resumed  those  dissolute  courses 
which,  in  England,  had  already  hurried  him  almost  to 
death's  door! 

"My  good  God,  Mr,  EfiEingstone,"  I  inquired,  almost 
paralyzed  with  amazement  at  hearing  him  describe  re- 
cent scenes  in  which  he  had  mingled,  which  would  have 
made  even  satyrs  skulk  ashamed  into  the  woods  of  old, 
"how  could  you  have  been  so  insane — so  stark,  staring 
mad,  to  say  nothing  else  of  it?" 

"By  instinct,  doctor — by  instinct!  The  nature  of  the 
beast!"  he  replied,  through  his  closed  teeth,  and  with 
an  unconscious  clenching  of  his  hands.  Many  inquiries 
into  his  past  and  present  symptoms  forewarned  me  that 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  159 

his  case  would  probably  be  marked  by  more  appialling 
features  than  any  that  had  ever  come  under  my  care ;  and 
that  there  was  not  a  ray  of  hope  that  he  would  survive 
the  long,  lingering,  and  maddening  agonies,  which  were 
"measured  out  to  him  from  the  poisoned  chalice,'-'  which 
he  had  "commended  to  his  own  lips."  At  the  time  I  am 
speaking  of — I  mean  when  I  paid  him  the  visit  above 
described — his  situation  was  not  far  from  that  of  Job,  de- 
scribed in  chapter  VII. 

********  =1:  * 

He  shed  no  tears,  and  repeatedly  strove,  but  in  vain, 
to  repress  sighs  with  which  his  breast  heaved,  nearly 
to  bursting,  while  I  pointed  out,  in  obedience  to  his  de- 
termination to  know  the  worst,  some  portions  of  the 
dreary  prospect  before  him. 

"Horrible!  hideous!"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  low,  broken 
tone,  his  flesh  creeping  from  head  to  foot.  "How  shall 
I  endure  it! — Oh!  Epictetus,  how?"  He  relapsed  into  si- 
lence, with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ceiling,  and  his  hands 
joined  over  his  breast,  and  pointing  upwards,  in  a  posture 
which  I  considered  supplicatory.  I  rejoiced  to  see  it,  and 
ventured  to  say,  after  much  hesitation,  that  I  was  de- 
lighted to  see  him  at  length  looking  to  the  right  quarter 
for  support  and  consolation. 

"Bah !"  he  exclaimed  impetuously,  removing  his  hands, 
and  eyeing  me  with  sternness,  almost  approaching  fury, 
"why  will  you  persist  in  pestering  your  patients  with 
twaddle  of  that  sort? — candeni  semper  canens  cantilenam 
ad  nauseam  usque — as  though  you  carried  a  psalter  in  your 
pocket?  When  I  want  to  listen  to  anything  of  that  kind, 
why,  I'll  pay  a  parson  1  Haven't  I  a  tide  enough  of  horror 
to  bear  up  against  already,  without  your  bringing  a  sea 
of  superstition  upon  me?  No  more  of  it — no  more — 'tis 
foul."  I  felt  roused  myself,  at  last,  to  something  like 
correspondent  emotion ;  for  there  was  an  insolence  of  as- 
sumption in  his  tone  which  I  could  not  brook. 

"Mr.  Effingstone,"  said  I  calmly,  "this  silly  swagger 
will  not  do.  'Tis  unworthy  of  you — unscholarly — ungen- 
tlemanly.    You  force  me  to  say  so.    I  beg  I  may  hear  no 


160  THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN 

more  of  it,  or  you  and  I  must  part.  I  have  never  been 
accustomed  to  such  treatment,  and  I  cannot  now  learn 
to  endure  it  from  you.  From  what  quarter  can  you  ex- 
pect support  or  fortitude,"  said  I,  in  a  milder  tone,  see- 
ing him  startled  and  surprised  at  my  tone  and  manner, 
"except  the  despised  consolations  of  religion?" 

"Doctor,  you  are  too  superior  to  petty  feelings  not  to 
overlook  a  little  occasional  petulance  in  such  a  wretched 
fellow  as  I  am!  You  ask  me  whither  I  look  for  support? 
I  reply,  to  the  energies  of  my  own  mind — the  tried,  dis- 
ciplined energies  of  my  own  mind,  doctor — a  mind  that 
never  knew  what  fear  was — that  no  disastrous  combina- 
tions of  misfortune  could  ever  yet  shake  from  its  forti- 
tude !  What  but  this  is  it,  that  enables  me  to  shut  my 
ears  to  the  whisperings  of  some  pitying  fiend,  who,  know- 
ing what  hideous  tortures  await  me,  has  stepped  out  of 
hell  to  come  and  advise  me  to  suicide — eh?"  he  inquired, 
his  eye  glaring  on  me  with  a  very  fearful  expression. 
"However,  as  religion,  that  is,  your  Christian  religion,  is 
a  subject  on  which  you  and  I  can  never  agree — an  old 
bone  of  contention  between  us — why,  the  less  said  about 
it  the  better.  It's  useless  to  irritate  a  man  whose  mind 
is  made  up — I  shall  never — I  will  never — be  a  believer. 
May  I  perish  first !"  he  concluded,  with  angry  vehemence. 

The  remainder  of  the  interview  I  spent  in  endeavoring 
to  persuade  him  to  relinquish  his  present  unsuitable 
lodgings,  and  return  to  the  sphere  of  his  friends  and  re- 
lations— but  in  vain.  He  was  fixedly  determined  to  con- 
tinue in  that  obscure  hole,  he  said,  till  there  was  about  a 
week  or  so  between  him  and  death,  and  then  he  would 
return,  "and  die  in  the  bosom  of  his  family,  as  the  phrase 
was."  Alas !  however,  I  knew  but  too  well,  that  in  the 
event  of  his  adhering  to  that  resolution,  he  was  fated  to 
expire  in  the  bed  where  he  then  lay;  for  I  foresaw  but 
too  truly  that  the  termination  of  his  illness  would  be 
attended  with  circumstances  rendering  removal  utterly 
impossible.  He  made  me  pledge  my  word  that  I  would 
not,  without  his  express  request  or  sanction,  apprise  any 
member  of  his  family,  or  any  of  his  friends,  that  he  had 


THE   DIARY    OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  161 

returned  to  England.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  expostulated 
— that  I  represented  the  responsibility  imposed  upon  me ; 
and  reminded  him,  that,  in  the  event  of  anything  serious 
and  sudden  befalling  him,  the  censure  of  all  his  relatives 
would  be  leveled  at  me.  He  was  immovable.  "Doctor, 
you  know  well  I  dare  not  see  them,  as  well  on  my  own  ac- 
count as  theirs,"  said  he  bitterly. 

He  begged  me  to  prescribe  him  a  powerful  anodyne 
draught ;  for  that  he  could  get  no  rest  at  nights — that  an 
intense,  racking  pain  was  gnawing  all  his  bones  from 
morning  to  evening — from  evening  to  morning;  and  what 
with  all  this  and  other  dreadful  concomitants,  he  "was," 
as  he  said,  "suffering  the  tortures  of  the  damned,  and  per- 
haps worse."  I  complied  with  his  request,  and  ordered 
him  also  many  other  medicines  and  applications,  and 
promised  to  see  him  soon  in  the  morning.  I  was  ac- 
cordingly with  him  about  twelve  the  next  day.  He  was 
sitting  up,  and  in  his  dressing-gown,  before  the  fire,  in 
great  pain,  and  suffering  under  the  deepest  dejection.  He 
complained  heavily  of  the  intense  and  unremitting  agony 
he  had  endured  all  night  long,  and  thought  that,  from 
some  cause  or  other,  the  laudanum  draught  I  ordered  had 
tended  to  make  him  only  more  acutely  sensible  of  the 
pain. 

"It  is  a  peculiar  and  horrible  sensation;  and  I  cannot 
give  you  an  adequate  idea  of  it,"  he  said ;  "it  is  as  though 
the  marrow  in  my  bones  were  transformed  into  some- 
thing animated — into  blind-worms,  writhing,  biting,  and 
stinging  incessantly" — and  he  shuddered,  as  did  I  also, 
at  the  revolting  comparison.  He  put  me  upon  a  minute 
exposition  of  the  rationale  of  his  disorder ;  and  if  ever  I 
was  at  a  loss  for  adequate  expressions  or  illustrations,  he 
supplied  them  with  a  readiness,  an  exquisite  appositeness, 
which,  added  to  his  astonishing  acuteness  in  comprehend- 
ing the  most  strictly  technical  details,  filled  me  with  ad- 
miration for  his  great  powers  of  mind,  and  poignant  re- 
gret at  their  miserable  desecration, 

"Well,  I  don't  think  you  can  give  me  any  efficient  re- 


162  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

lief,  doctor,"  said  he;  "and  I  am,  therefore,  bent  on  try- 
ing a  scheme  of  my  own." 

"And  what,  pray,  may  that  be?"  I  inquired  curious- 
ly, with  a  sigh. 

"I'll  tell  you  my  preparations.    I've  ordered — by ! 

— nearly  a  hundred-weight  of  the  strongest  tobacco  that's 
to  be  bought,  and  thousands  of  pipes;  and  with  these  I 
intend  to  smoke  myself  into  stupidity,  or  rather  insen- 
sibility, if  possible,  till  I  can't  undertake  to  say  whether 
I  live  or  not ;  and  my  good  fellow,  George,  is  to  be  read- 
ing me  Don  Quixote  the  while."  Oh,  with  what  a  sor- 
rowful air  of  forced  gaiety  was  all  this  uttered! 

One  sudden  burst  of  bitterness  I  well  recollect.  I  was 
saying,  while  putting  on  my  gloves  to  go,  that  I  hoped  to 
see  him  in  better  spirits  the  next  time  I  called. 

"Better  spirits !     Ha,  ha !  How  the  can  I  be  in 

better  spirits — an  exile  from  society — and  absolutely  rot- 
ting away  here — in  such  a  contemptible  hovel  as  this, 
amongst  a  set  of  base-born  brutal  savages? — faugh! 
faugh!  It  does  need  something  here — here,"  pressing 
his  hand  to  his  forehead,  "to  bear  it — ay,  it  does!"  I 
thought  his  tones  were  tremulous,  and  that  for  the  first 
time  I  had  ever  known  them  so;  and  I  could  not  help 
thinking  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes,  for  he  started  sud- 
denly from  me,  and  affected  to  be  gazing  at  some  passing 
object  in  the  street.  I  saw  he  was  beginning  to  droop 
under  a  consciousness  of  the  .bitter  degradation  into 
which  he  had  sunk — the  wretched  prospect  of  his  sun's 
going  down  at  noon — and  in  darkness!  I  saw  that  the 
strength  of  mind  to  which  he  clung  so  pertinaciously  for 
support,  was  fast  disappearing,  like  snow  beneath  the 
sunbeam. 

Friday,  January  5. — Mr.  Effingstone  continues  in  the 
same  deplorable  state  described  in  my  former  entry.  It 
is  absolutely  revolting  to  enter  his  room,  the  effluvium  is 
so  sickening,  so  overpowering.  I  am  compelled  to  use  a 
vinaigrette  incessantly,  as  well  as  eau-de-cologne,  and 
other  scents,  in  profusion.  I  found  him  engaged,  as 
usual,   deep    in   Petronius   Arbiter]     He    still    makes   the 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  163 

same  wretched  show  of  reliance  on  the  strength  and  firm- 
ness of  his  mental  powers ;  but  his  worn  and  haggard 
features — the  burning  brilHance  of  his  often  half-fren- 
zied eyes — the  broken,  hollow  tones  of  his  voice — his 
sudden  starts  of  apprehension — belie  every  word  he  ut- 
ters. He  describes  his  bodily  sufferings  as  frightful.  In- 
deed, Mrs.  has  often  told  me  that  his  groans  both 

disturb  and  alarm  the  neighbors,  even  as  far  as  on  the 
other  side  of  the  street !  The  very  watchman  has  sev- 
eral times  been  so  much  startled  in  passing,  at  hearing  his 
groans,  that  he  has  knocked  at  the  door  to  inquire  about 

them.    Neither  Sir nor  I  can  think  of  anything  that 

seems  likely  to  assuage  his  agonies.  Even  laudanum  has 
failed  us  altogether,  though  it  has  been  given  in  unprece- 
dented quantities.  I  think  I  can  say  with  truth  and  sin- 
cerity, that  scarce  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  should  tempt 
me  to  undertake  the  management  of  another  such  case. 
I  am  losing  my  appetite — loathe  animal  food — am 
haunted  day  and  night  by  the  piteous  spectacle  which  I 
have  to  encounter  daily  in  Mr.  Efifingstone.  Oh !  that 
Heaven  would  terminate  his  tortures — surely  he  has  suf- 
fered enough!  I  am  sure  he  would  hail  the  prospect  of 
death  with  ecstasy! 

Wednesday,  10. — Poor,  infatuated,  obstinate  Efifing- 
stone, will  not  yet  allow  me  to  communicate  with  any  of 
his  family  or  friends,  though  he  knows  they  are  almost 
distracted   at  not  hearing  from   him,   fancying  him   yet 

abroad.    Colonel asked  me  the  other  day,  earnestly, 

when  I  last  heard  from  Mr.  Efifingstone!  I  wonder  my 
conscious  looks  did  not  betray  me.  I  almost  wish  they 
had.  Good  God !  in  what  a  painful  predicament  I  am 
placed!  What  am  I  to  do?  Shall  I  tell  them  all  about 
him,  and  disregard  consequences?  Oh — no — no!  how 
can  that  be,  when  my  word  and  honor  are  solemnly 
pledged  to  the  contrary? 

Saturday,  20. — Poor  Effingstone  has  experienced  a 
signal  instance  of  the  ingratitude  and  heartlessness  of 
mere  men  of  the  world.  He  sent  his  man,  some  time 
ago,  with  a  confidential  note  to  Captain  ,  formerly 


164  THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

one  of  his  most  intimate  acquaintances,  stating  briefly 
the  shocking  circumstances  in  which  he  is  placed,  and 
begging  him  to  call  and  see  him.  The  captain  sent 
back  a  viva  voce  ( !)  message,  that  he  should  feel  happy 
in  calling  on  Mr.  Effingstone  in  a  few  days'  time,  and 
would  then,  but  that  he  was  busy  making  up  a  match  at 
billiards,  and  balancing  his  betting-book,  &c.,  &c.,  &c. ! 
This  day  the  fellow  rode  up  to  the  door,  and — left  a  card 
for  Mr.  Effingstone,  without  asking  to  see  him !  Heart- 
less, contemptible  thing! — I  drove  up  about  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  after  this  gentleman  had  left.  Poor  Effingstone 
could  not  repress  tears  while  informing  me  of  the  above. 

"Would  you  believe  it,  doctor,"  said  he,  "that  Cap- 
tain   was  one  of  my  most  intimate  companions — that 

he  has  won  very  many  hundred  pounds  of  my  money — 
and  that  I  have  stood  his  second  in  a  duel?" 

"Oh,  yes — I  could  believe  it  all,  and  much  more!" 

"My  poor  man,  George,"  he  resumed,  "is  worth  a  mil- 
lion of  such  puppies!  Don't  you  think  the  good,  faith- 
ful fellow  looks  ill?  He  is  at  my  bedside  twenty  times  a 
night!  Pray  try  and  do  something  for  him!  I've  left 
him  a  trifling  annuity  out  of  the  wreck  of  my  fortune, 
poor  fellow !"  and  the  rebellious  tears  again  glistened  in 
his  eyes.    His  tortures  are  unmitigated. 

Friday,  26. — Surely,  surely,  I  have  never  seen,  and  sel- 
dom heard  or  read,  of  such  sufferings  as  the  wretched 
Effingstone's.  He  strives  to  endure  them  with  the  for- 
titude and  patience  of  a  martyr ;  or  rather,  is  struggling 
to  exhibit  a  spirit  of  sullen,  stoical  submission  to  his 
fate,  such  as  is  inculcated  in  Arrian's  Discourses  oi 
Epictctus,  which  he  reads  almost  all  day.  His  anguish 
is  so  excruciating  and  uninterrupted,  that  I  am  aston- 
ished how  he  retains  the  use  of  his  reason.  All  power  of 
locomotion  has  disappeared  long  ago.  The  only  parts  of 
his  body  he  can  move  now,  are  his  fingers,  toes,  and  head 
— which  latter  he  sometimes  shakes  about,  in  a  sudden 
ecstasy  of  pain,  with  such  frightful  violence  as  would, 
one  would  think,  almost  suffice  to  sever  it  from  his 
shoulders!    The  flesh  of  the  lower  extremities — the  flesh 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  165 

*     *    Horrible!     All  sensation  has  ceased  in  them 

for  a  fortnight!  He  describes  the  agonies  about  his 
stomach  and  bowels  to  be  as  though  wolves  were  raven- 
ously gnawing  and  mangling  all  within. 

Oh,  my  God!  if  "men  about  town,"  in  London  and 
elsewhere,  could  but  see  the  hideous  spectacle  Mr.  Ef- 
fingstone  presents,  surely  it  would  palsy  them  in  the 
pursuit  of  ruin,  and  scare  them  into  the  paths  of  virtue ! 

Mrs.  ,  his  landlady,  is  so  ill  with  attendance  on 

him — almost  poisoned  by  the  foul  air  in  his  chamber — 
that  she  is  gone  to  the  house  of  a  relative  for  a  few  weeks, 
in  a  distant  part  of  the  town,  having  first  engaged  one 
of  the  poor  neighbors  to  supply  her  place  as  Mr.  Effing- 
stone's  nurse.  The  people  opposite,  and  on  each  side  of 
the  house,  are  complaining  again,  loudly,  of  the  strange 
nocturnal  noises  heard  in  Mr.  Effingstone's  room.  They 
are  his  groanings ! 

Tuesday,  31. — Again  have  I  visited  that  scene  of  loath- 
someness and  horror — Mr.  Effingstone's  chamber.  The 
nurse  and  George  told  me  he  had  been  raving  deliriously 
all  night  long,  I  found  him  incredibly  altered  in  coun- 
tenance, so  much  so,  that  I  should  hardly  have  recognized 
his  features.  He  was  mumbling  with  his  eyes  closed, 
when  I  entered  the  room. 

"Doctor!"  he  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  doubt  and  fear, 
such  as  I  had  never  known  from  him  before,  "you  have 
not  heard  me  abuse  the  Bible  lately,  have  you?" 

"Not  very  lately,  Mr.  Effingstone,"  I  replied,  pointedly. 

"Good,"  said  he  with  his  usual  decision  and  energy  of 
manner.  "There  are  awful  things  in  that  book — aren't 
there,  doctor?" 

"Many  very  awful  things  there  are  indeed,"  I  replied, 
with  a  sigh. 

"I  thought  so — I  thought  so.     Pray" his  manner 

grew  suddenly  perturbed,  and  he  paused  for  a  moment 
as  if  to  recollect  himself — "Pray — pray"  again  he 
paused,  but  could  not  succeed  in  disguising  his  trepida- 
tion, "do  you  happen  to  recollect  whether  there  are  such 
words  in  the  Bible  as — as  'many  stripes'?" 


166  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

"Yes,  there  are ;  and  they  form  part  of  a  very  fearful 
passage,"  said  I,  quoting  the  verse  as  nearly  as  I  could. 
He  listened  silently.  His  features  swelled  with  sup- 
pressed emotion.    There  was  horror  in  his  eye. 

"Doctor,  what  a — a — remark — able — nay,  hideous 
dream  I  had  last  night !  I  thought  a  fiend  came  and  took 
me  to  a  gloomy  belfry,  or  some  other  such  place,  and 
muttered  'Many  stripes — many  stripes,'  in  my  ear;  and 
the  huge  bell  tolled  me  into  madness,  for  all  the  damned 
danced  around  me  to  the  sound  of  it ;  ha !  ha !"  He  added, 
with  a  faint  laugh,  after  a  pause,  "There's  something 
cu — cur — cursedly  odd  in  the  coincidence,  isn't  there? 
How  it  would  have  frightened  some!"  he  continued,  a 
forced  smile  flitting  over  his  haggard  features,  as  if  in 
mockery.  "But  it  is  easily  to  be  accounted  for — the  in- 
timate connection — sympathy — between  mind  and  mat- 
ter, reciprocally  affecting  each  other — affecting  each — 
ha,  ha,  ha !    Doctor,  it's  no  use  keeping  up  this  damned 

farce  any  longer.    Human  nature  won't  bear  it.    D n ! 

I'm  going  down  to  Hell !  I  am !"  said  he,  almost  yelling 
out  the  words.  I  had  never  before  witnessed  such  a  fear- 
ful manifestation  of  his  feelings!  I  almost  started  from 
the  chair  on  which  I  was  sitting. 

"Why" — he  continued,  in  nearly  the  same  tone  and 
manner,  as  if  he  had  lost  all  self-control,  "what  is  it  that 
has  maddened  me  all  my  life,  and  left  me  sober  only  at 
this  ghastly  hour — too  late?"  My  agitation  would  not 
permit  me  to  do  more  than  whisper  a  few  unconnected 
words  of  encouragement  almost  inaudible  to  myself.  In 
about  five  minutes'  time,  neither  of  us  having  broken  the 
silence  of  the  interval,  he  said  in  a  calmer  tone,  "Doctor, 
be  good  enough  to  wipe  my  forehead — will  you?"  I  did 
so.  "You  know  better,  doctor,  of  course,  than  to  attach 
any  importance  to  the  nonsensical  rantings  extorted  by 
deathbed  agonies,  eh?  Don't  dying  people,  at  least  those 
who  die  in  great  pain,  almost  always  express  themselves 
so?  How  apt  superstition  is  to  rear  its  dismal  flag  over 
the  prostrate  energies  of  one's  soul,  when  the  body  is 
racked  by  tortures  like  mine !  Oh ! — oh ! — oh ! — that  mad- 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  167 

dening  sensation  about  the  center  of  my  stomach.  Doc- 
tor"— he  added,  after  a  pause,  with  a  grim  air — "go  home, 
and  forget  all  the  stuff  you  have  heard  me  utter  to-day — 
Richard's  himself  again!" 

Thursday,  2nd  February. — On  arriving  this  morning  at 

Row,  I  was  shown  into  the  back  parlor,  where  sat 

the  nurse,  very  sick  and  faint.  She  begged  me  to  pro- 
cure a  substitute,  for  that  she  was  nearly  killed  herself, 
and  nothing  should  tempt  her  to  continue  in  her  present 
situation.  Poor  thing!  I  did  not  wonder  at  it.  I  told  her 
I  would  send  a  nurse  from  one  of  the  hospitals  that  even- 
ing; and  then  inquired  what  sort  of  a  night  Mr,  Effing- 
stone  had  passed.  "Terrible,"  she  said,  "groaning,  shak- 
ing, and  roaring  all  night  long — 'Many  stripes!' — 'Many 
stripes  1' — *Oh,  God  of  mercy !'  and  inquiring  perpetually 
for  3^ou."  I  repaired  to  the  fatal  chamber  immediately, 
though  latterly  my  spirits  began  to  fail  me  whenever  I 
approached  the  door.  I  was  going  to  take  my  usual  seat 
in  the  arm-chair  by  the  bedside. 

"Don't  sit  there — don't  sit  there,"  groaned,  or  rather 
gasped  Mr.  Effingstone ;  "for  a  hideous  being  sat  in  that 
chair  all  night  long" — every  muscle  in  his  face  crept  and 
shrunk  with  horror — "muttering,  'Many  stripes!'  Doctor, 
order  that  blighted  chair  to  be  taken  away,  broken  up, 
and  burnt,  every  splinter  of  it !  Let  no  human  being  ever 
sit  in  it  again !  And  give  instructions  to  the  people  about 
me  never  to  desert  me  for  a  moment — or — or — carry  me 
off! — they  will!  *  *  *  My  frenzied  fancy  conjures  up 
the  ghastliest  objects  that  can  scare  man  into  madness." 
He  paused. 

"Great  God,  doctor!  suppose,  after  all,  what  the  Bible 
says  should  prove  true !" — he  literally  gnashed  his  teeth 
and  looked  a  truer  image  of  Despair  than  I  have  ever 
seen  represented  in  pictures  on  the  stage,  or  in  real  life. 

"Why,  Mr.  Effingstone,  if  it  should,  it  need  not  be  to 
your  sorrow,  unless  you  choose  to  make  it  so,"  said  I  in 
a  soothing  tone. 

"Needn't  it,  needn't  it?"  with  an  abstracted  air — 
"Needn't  it?     Oh,  good! — hope — there,  there  IT  sat,  all 


168  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

night  long — there!  I've  no  recollection  of  any  distinct 
personality,  and  yet  I  thought  it  sometimes  looked  like — 
Of  course,"  he  added,  after  a  pause,  and  a  sigh  of  ex- 
haustion— "of  course  these  phantoms,  or  similar  ones, 
must  often  have  been  described  to  you  by  dying  people 
—eh?" 

Friday,  3rd. — *  *  *  He  v^as  in  a  strangely  altered 
mood  to-day ;  for  though  his  condition  might  be  aptly  de- 
scribed by  the  words  "dead  alive,"  his  calm  demeanor,  his 
tranquilized  features,  and  the  mild  expression  of  his  eye, 
assured  me  he  believed  what  he  said,  when  he  told  me 
that  his  disorder  had  "taken  a  turn,"  and  the  "crisis  was 
past"  ;  and  he  should  recover !  Alas  !  was  it  ever  known 
that  dead,  mortified  flesh  ever  resumed  its  life  and  func- 
tions !  To  save  himself  from  the  spring  of  a  tiger  he 
could  not  have  moved  a  foot  or  finger,  and  that  for  the 
last  week!  Poor,  poor  Mr,  Effingstone  began  to  thank 
me  for  my  attentions  to  him  during  his  illness ;  said,  he 
"owed  his  life  to  my  consummate  skill" ;  and  he  would 
trumpet  my  fame  to  the  Andes,  if  I  succeeded  in  bringing 
him  through! 

"It  has  been  a  very  horrible  afifair,  doctor — hasn't  it?" 
said  he. 

"Very,  very,  Mr.  Effingstone ;  and  it  is  my  duty  to  tell 
you  there  is  yet  much  horror  before  you !" 

"Ah !  well,  well !  I  see  you  don't  want  me  to  be  too  san- 
guine— too  impatient.  It's  kindly  meant — very !  Doctor, 
when  I  leave  here,  I  leave  it  an  altered  man !  Come,  does 
that  not  gratify  you,  eh  ?" 

I  could  not  help  a  sigh.  He  would  be  an  altered  man, 
and  that  very  shortly!  He  mistook  the  feelings  which 
prompted  the  sigh.  "Mind — not  that  I'm  going  to  com- 
mence saint — far,  oh,  very  far  from  it;  but — but  I  don't 
despair  of  being  at  some  time  or  other  a  Christian.  I 
don't,  upon  my  honor!  The  New  Testament  is  a  sub- 
lime— a — I  believe — a  revelation  of  the  Almighty.  My 
heart  is  quite  humbled ;  yet — mark  me — I  don't  mean  ex- 
actly to  say  I'm  a  believer — not  by  any  means ;  but  I 
can't  help  thinking  that  my  inquiries  might  tend  to  make 


THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  1G9 

me  so,"  I  hinted  that  all  these  were  indications  of  bet- 
tered feelings.    I  could  say  no  more. 

"I'm  bent  on  leading  a  different  life  to  what  I  have  led 
before,  at  all  events !  Let  me  see — I'll  tell  yon  what  I 
have  been  chalking  down  during  the  night.  I  shall  go 
to  Lord 's  villa  in ,  whither  I  have  often  been  in- 
vited, and  shall  read  Lardner  and  Paley,  and  get  them  up 
thoroughly — I  will,  by  !" 

"Mr.  Effingstone,  pardon  me " 

"Ah,  I  understand — 'twas  a  mere  slip  of  the  tongue ; 
what's  bred  in  the  bone,  you  know." 

"I  was  not  alluding  to  the  oath,  Mr.  Effingstone ;  but 
it  is  my  duty  to  warn  you " 

"Ah!  that  I'm  not  going  the  right  way  to  work — eh? 
Well,  at  all  events,  I'll  consult  a  clergyman.   The  Bishop 

of is  a  distant  connection  of  our  family,  you  know — 

I'll  ask  his  advice !  *  *  Oh,  doctor,  look  at  that  rich — that 
blessed  light  of  the  sun !  Oh,  draw  aside  the  window  cur- 
tain— let  me  feel  it  on  me !  What  an  image  of  the  bene- 
ficence of  the  Deity ! — a  smile  flung  from  his  face  over  the 
universe !"  I  drew  aside  the  curtain.  It  was  a  cold,  clear, 
frosty  day,  and  the  sun  shone  into  the  room  with  cheer- 
ful lustre.  Oh!  how  awfully  distinct  were  the  ravages 
which  his  wasted  features  had  sustained!  His  soul 
seemed  to  expand  beneath  the  genial  influence  of  the  sun- 
beams ;  and  again  he  expressed  his  confident  expecta- 
tions of  recovery. 

"Mr.  Efifingstone,  do  not  persist  in  cherishing  false 
hopes !  Once  for  all,"  said  I,  with  all  the  deliberate  sol- 
emnity I  could  throw  into  my  manner,  "I  assure  you,  in 
the  presence  of  God,  that,  unless  a  miracle  takes  place, 
it  is  utterly  impossible  for  you  to  recover,  or  even  to 
last  a  week  longer!"  I  thought  it  had  killed  him.  His 
features  whitened  visibly  as  I  concluded ;  his  eye  seemed 
to  sink,  and  the  eyelids  fell.  His  lips  presently  moved, 
but  uttered  no  sound.  I  thought  he  had  received  his 
death  stroke,  and  was  immeasurably  shocked  at  its  hav- 
ing been  from  my  hands,  even  though  in  the  strict  per- 
formance of  my  duty.  Half  an  hour's  time,  however,  saw 


170  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

him  restored  to  nearly  the  same  state  in  which  he  had 
been  previously.  I  begged  him  to  allow  me  to  send  a  cler- 
gyman to  him,  as  the  best  means  of  soothing  and  quieting 
his  mind ;  but  he  shook  his  head  despondingly,  I  pressed 
my  point,  and  he  said  deliberately,  "No."  He  muttered 
some  such  words  as,  "The  Deity  has  determined  on  my 
destruction,  and  is  permitting  his  devils  to  mock  me  with 
hopes  of  this  sort — let  me  go  then  to  my  own  place!" 

In  this  awful  state  of  mind  I  was  compelled  to  leave 
him.  I  sent  a  clergyman  to  him  in  my  chaise,  but  he  re- 
fused to  see  him,  saying,  that  if  he  presumed  to  force  him- 
self into  the  room,  he  would  spit  in  his  face,  though  he 
could  not  rise  to  kick  him  out !  The  temper  of  his  mind 
had  changed  into  something  perfectly  diobolical  since  my 
interview  with  him. 

Saturday,  4th. — Really  my  own  health  is  suffering — my 
spirits  are  sinking  through  the  daily  horrors  I  have  to  en- 
counter at  Mr.  Effingstone's  apartment.  This  morning  I 
sat  by  his  bedside  full  half  an  hour,  listening  to  him  utter- 
ing nothing  but  groans  that  shook  my  very  soul  within 
me.  He  did  not  know  me  when  I  spoke  to  him,  and  took 
no  notice  of  me  whatever.  At  length  his  groans  were 
mingled  with  such  expressions  as  these,  indicating  that 
his  disturbed  fancy  had  wandered  to  former  scenes : — 

"Oh !  oh !— Pitch  it  into  him,  Bob !  Ten  to  two  on  Crib ! 

Horrible ! — These  dice  are  loaded,  Wilmington ;  by , 

I  know  they  are !     Seven's  the  main  !     Ha ! — done,  by 

!     *     *     Hector,  yes — [he  was  alluding  to  a  favorite 

race-horse] — won't  'bate  a  pound  of  his  price!  Your 
Grace  shall  have  him  for  six  hundred — Forelegs,  only 
look  at  them ! — There,  there,  go  it !  away,  away !  neck  and 

neck — In,  in,  by  1     *     *     Hannah!  what  the  's 

become  of  her? — drowned?  No,  no,  no!  What  a  fiend  in- 
carnate that  Bet is!  *  *  Oh,  horror,  horror,  hor- 
ror. Rottenness !  Oh,  that  some  one  would  knock  me  on 
the  head  and  end  me!     *     *     Fire,  fire!  Stripes,  many 

stripes — Stuff!   You  didn't  fire  fair.     By  ,  you  fired 

before  your  time — [alluding,  I  suppose,  to  a  duel  in  which 
he  had  been  concerned] — Curse  your  cowardice!" 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  171 

Such  was  the  substance  of  what  he  uttered ;  it  was  in 
vain  that  I  tried  to  arrest  the  torrent  of  vile  recollections. 

"Doctor,  doctor,  I  shall  die  of  fright !"  he  exclaimed  an 
hour  afterwards — "What  do  you  think  happened  to  me 
last  night?  I  was  lying  here,  with  the  fire  burnt  very 
low,  and  the  candles  gone  out.  George  was  asleep,  poor 
fellow,  and  the  woman  gone  out  to  get  an  hour's  rest  also. 
I  was  looking  about,  and  suddenly  saw  the  dim  outline 
of  a  table,  set,  as  it  were,  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  There 
were  four  chairs  faintly  visible,  and  three  ghostly  figures 
came  through  that  door  and  sat  in  them,  one  by  one, 
leaving  one  vacant.  They  began  a  sort  of  horrid  whis- 
pering, more  like  gasping;  they  were  devils,  and  talked 
about — my  damnation !  The  fourth  chair  was  for  me, 
they  said,  and  all  three  turned  and  looked  me  in  the  face. 
Oh  !  hideous — shapeless — damned !"  He  uttered  a  shud- 
dering groan.     *     *     * 

[Here  follows  an  account  of  his  interview  with  his 
two  brothers — the  only  members  of  the  family  (whom 
he  had  at  last  permitted  to  be  informed  of  his  frightful 
condition)  that  would  come  and  see  him.]  *  *  *  He 
did  little  else  than  rave  and  howl,  in  a  blasphemous  man- 
ner, all  the  while  they  were  present.  He  seemed  hardly 
to  be  aware  of  their  being  his  brothers,  and  to  forget  the 

place  where  he  was.     He  cursed  me,  then  Sir  ,  and 

his  man  George,  and  charged  us  with  compassing  his 
death,  concealing  his  case  from  his  family,  and  execrating 
us  for  not  allowing  him  to  be  removed  to  the  west  end  of 
the  town.  In  vain  we  assured  him  that  his  removal  was 
utterly  impossible — the  time  was  past — I  had  offered  it 
once.    He  gnashed  his  teeth,  and  spit  at  us  all ! 

"What!  die — die — Die  in  this  damned  hole? — I  won't 

die  here — I  will  go  to Street.    Take  me  off! — Devils, 

then  do  you  come  and  carry  me  there ! — come — out,  out, 
out  upon  you ! — *  *  * — You  have  killed  me,  all  of  you ! 
— You're  throttling  me ! — You've  put  a  hill  of  iron  on 
me — I'm  dead — all  my  body  is  dead! — *  *  * — George, 
you  monster!  why  are  you  ladling  fire  upon  me? — Where 
do  you  get  it? — out,  out — out! — I'm  flooded  with  fire! — 


172  THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN 

Scorched — Scorched! — *     *     Now — now  for  a  dance  of 

devils — Ha — I  see!  I  see! — There's  ,  and  ,  and 

,  among  them! — What!  all  three  of  you  dead — and 

damned  before  me? !  Where  are  your  loaded  dice? 

— Filled  with  fire,  eh? — *  * — So,  you  were  the  three 
devils  I  saw  sitting  at  the  table,  eh? — Well,  I  shall  be 

last — but,  by ,  I'll  be  the  chief  of  you! — I'll  be  king 

in  hell! — *  * — What — what's  that  fiery  owl  sitting  at 
the  bottom  of  the  bed  for,  eh  ? — Kick  it  off — strike  it ! — 
Away — out  on  thee,  thou  imp  of  hell ! — I  shall  make  thee 
sing  presently ! — Let  in  the  snakes — let  the  large  serpents 
in — I  love  them!  I  hear  them  writhing  up-stairs — they 
shall  twine  about  my  bed !"  He  began  to  shake  his  head 
violently  from  side  to  side,  his  eyes  glaring  like  coals 
of  fire,  and  his  teeth  gnashing.  I  never  could  have  imag- 
ined anything  half  so  frightful.  What  with  the  highly 
excited  state  of  my  feelings,  and  the  horrible  scents  of 
death  which  were  diffused  about  the  room,  and  to  which 
not  the  strongest  salts  of  ammonia,  used  incessantly, 
could  render  me  insensible,  I  was  obliged  to  leave  ab- 
ruptly. I  knew  the  last  act  of  the  black  tragedy  was 
closing  that  night!  I  left  word  with  the  nurse,  that  so 
soon  as  Mr.  Effingstone  should  be  released  from  his  mis- 
ery, she  should  get  into  a  hackney-coach,  and  come  to  my 
house. 

I  lay  tossing  in  bed  all  night  long — my  mind  suffused 
with  the  horrors  of  the  scene  of  which  I  have  endeavored 
to  give  some  faint  idea  above.  Were  I  to  record  half 
what  I  recollect  of  his  hideous  ravings,  it  would  scare  my- 
self to  read  it! — I  will  not!  Let  them  and  their  memory 
perish !  Let  them  never  meet  the  eye  or  ear  of  man ! — 
I  fancied  myself  lying  side  by  side  with  the  loathsome 
thing  bearing  the  name  of  Effingstone ;  that  I  could  not 
move  away  from  him ;  that  his  head,  shaking  from  side  to 
side,  as  I  have  mentioned  above,  was  battering  my  cheeks 
and  forehead;  in  short,  I  was  almost  beside  myself!  I 
was  in  the  act  of  uttering  a  fervent  prayer  to  the  Deity, 
that  even  in  the  eleventh  hour — the  eleventh  hour — when 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  173. 

a  violent  ringing  of  the  night-bell  made  me  spring  out 
of  bed.  It  was  as  I  suspected.  The  nurse  had  come;  and, 
already,  all  was  over.  My  heart  seemed  to  grow  sud- 
denly cold  and  motionless.  I  dressed  myself,  and  went 
down  into  the  drawing-room.  On  the  sofa  lay  the  wom- 
an ;  she  had  fainted.  On  recovering  her  senses,  I  asked 
her  if  all  was  over;  she  nodded  with  an  afifrighted  ex- 
pression !  A  little  wine  and  water  restored  her  self-pos- 
session. 

"When  did  it  occur?"  I  asked. 

"Exactly    as    the    clock    struck    three,"    she    replied. 

''George,  and  I,  and  Mr.  ,  the  apothecary,  whom  we 

had  sent  for  out  of  the  next  street,  were  standing  round 
the  bed.  Mr.  Hardy  lay  tossing  his  head  about  for  nearly 
an  hour,  saying  all  manner  of  horrible  things.  A  few 
minutes  before  three  he  gave  a  loud  howl,  and  shouted, 
'Here,  you  wretches — why  do  you  put  the  candles  out — 
here — here — I'm  dying!' 

"  'God's  peace  be  with  you,  sir! — the  Lord  have  mercy 
on  you !'  we  groaned,  like  people  distracted. 

"'Ha,  ha,  ha! — D — n  you! — D — n  you  all! — Dying — 
D — n  me!  I  won't  die! — I  won't  die! — No — No! — D — n 
me — I  won't — won't — won't' — he  gasped,  and  made  a 
noise  as  if  he  was  choked.  We  looked.  Yes,  he  was 
gone !" 

He  was  interred  in  an  obscure  dissenting  burying- 
ground  in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  under  the  name 
of  Hardy,  for  his  family  refused  to  recognize  him. 

So  lived — so  died,  "A  Man  about  Town" ;  and  so,  alas ! 
will  yet  live  and  die  many  another  man  about  town ! 


CHAPTER  X. 


GRAVE  DOINGS. 

Y  GENTLE  reader — start  not  at  learning  that 
I  have  been,  in  my  time,  a  resurrectionist.  Let 
not  this  appalling  word,  this  humiliating  con- 
fession, conjure  up  in  your  fancy  a  throng  of 
vampire-like  images  and  associations,  or  earn  your  "Phy- 
sician's" dismissal  from  your  hearts  and  hearths.  It  is 
your  own  groundless  fears,  my  fair  trembler ! — your  own 
superstitious  prejudices — that  have  driven  me,  and  will 
drive  many  others  of  my  brethren,  to  such  dreadful  do- 
ings as  those  hereafter  detailed.  Come,  come — let  us 
have  one  word  of  reason  between  us  on  the  abstract  ques- 
tion— and  then  for  my  tale.  You  expect  us  to  cure  you 
of  disease,  and  yet  deny  us  the  only  means  of  learning 
how !  You  would  have  us  bring  you  the  ore  of  skill  and 
experience,  yet  forbid  us  to  break  the  soil,  or  sink  a 
shaft!     Is  this  fair,  fair  reader?    Is  this  reasonable? 

What  I  am  now  going  to  describe  was  my  first  and 
last  exploit  in  the  way  of  body  stealing.  It  was  a  gro- 
tesque if  not  a  ludicrous  scene,  and  occurred  during  the 
period  of  my  "walking  the  hospitals,"  as  it  is  called, 
which  occupied  the  two  seasons  immediately  after  my 
leaving  Cambridge. 

A  young,  and  rather  interesting  female,  was  admitted  a 
patient  at  the  hospital  I  attended ;  her  case  baffled  all  our 
skill,  and  her  symptoms  defied  every  diagnosis.  Now  it 
seemed  an  enlargement  of  the  heart — novv^,  an  ossification 
— then  this,  that,  and  the  other ;  and,  at  last,  it  was  plain 
we  knew  nothing  at  all  about  the  matter — no,  not  even 
w^hether  her  disorder  was  organic  or  functional,  primary 
or  symptomatic — or  whether  it  was  really  the  heart  that 


THE  DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  176 

was  at  fault.  She  received  no  benefit  at  all  under  the 
fluctuating  schemes  of  treatment  we  pursued,  and,  at 
length,  fell  into  dying  circumstances.  As  soon  as  her 
friends  were  apprised  of  her  situation,  and  had  an  inkling 
of  our  intention  to  open  the  body,  they  insisted  on  re- 
moving her  immediately  from  the  hospital,  that  she 
might  "die  at  home."  In  vain  did  Sir and  his  dres- 
sers expostulate  vehemently  with  them,  and  represent, 
in  exaggerated  terms,  the  imminent  peril  attending  such 
a  step.  Her  two  brothers  avowed  their  apprehension  of 
our  designs,  and  were  inflexible  in  exercising  their  right 
of  removing  their  sister.  I  used  all  my  rhetoric  on  the 
occasion,  but  in  vain ;  and,  at  last,  said  to  the  young  men, 
"Well,  if  you  are  afraid  only  of  our  dissecting  her,  we  can 
get  hold  of  her,  if  we  are  so  disposed,  as  easily  if  she 
die  with  you  as  with  us." 

"Well — we'll  troy  that,  measter,"  replied  the  elder, 
while  his  Herculean  fist  oscillated  somewhat  significantly 
before  my  eyes.  The  poor  girl  was  removed  accordingly 
to  her  father's  house,  which  was  at  a  certain  village, 
about  five  miles  from  London,  and  survived  her  arrival 
scarcely  ten  minutes !  We  soon  contrived  to  receive  in- 
telligence of  the  event ;  and  as  I  and  Sir 's  two  dres- 
sers had  taken  great  interest  in  the  case  throughout,  and 
felt  intense  curiosity  about  the  real  nature  of  the  disease, 
we  met  together  and  entered  into  a  solemn  compact,  that, 
come  what  might,  we  would  have  her  body  out  of  the 
ground. 

A  trusty  spy  informed  us  of  the  time  and  exact  place 
of  the  girl's  burial ;  and  on  expressing  to  Sir our  de- 
termination about  the  matter,  he  patted  me  on  the  back, 
saying,  "Ah,  my  fine  fellow ! — if  you  have  spirit  enough — 
dangerous,"  &c.,  &c.  Was  it  not  skilfully  said?  The  bar- 
onet further  told  us,  he  felt  himself  so  curious  about  the 
matter,  that  if  fifty  pounds  would  be  of  use  to  us  in  fur- 
thering our  purpose,  they  were  at  our  service.  It  needed 
not  this,  nor  a  glance  at  the  eclat  with  which  the  suc- 
cessful issue  of  the  affair  would  be  attended  among  our 
fellow-students,  to  spur  our  resolves. 


176  THE  DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

The  notable  scheme  was  finally  adjusted  at  my  rooms 

in  the  Borough.     M and  E ,  Sir  's  dressers, 

and  myself,  with  an  experienced  "grab" — that  is  to  say, 
a  professional  resurrectionist — were  to  set  off  from  the 
Borough  about  nine  o'clock  the  next  evening — which 
would  be  the  third  day  after  the  burial — in  a  glass  coach 
provided  with  all  "appliances  and  means  to  boot."  Dur- 
ing the  day,  however,  our  friend,  the  grab,  suffered  so  se- 
verely from  an  overnight's  excess,  as  to  disappoint  us  of 
his  invaluable  assistance.  This  unexpected  contretemps 
nearly  put  an  end  to  our  project;  for  the  few  other  grabs 
we  knew  were  absent  on  professional  tours !  Luckily, 
however,  I  bethought  me  of  a  poor  Irish  porter — a  sort 
of  "ne'er-do-weel"  hanger-on  at  the  hospital — whom  I 
had  several  times  hired  to  go  on  errands.  This  man  I 
sent  for  to  my  rooms,  and,  in  the  presence  of  my  two 
coadjutors,  persuaded,  threatened,  and  bothered  into  ac- 
quiescence, promising  him  half-a-guinea  for  his  evening's 
work — and  as  much  whisky  as  he  could  drink  prudently. 
As  Mr.  Tip — that  was  the  name  he  went  by — had  some 
personal  acquaintance  with  the  sick  grab,  he  succeeded 
in  borrowing  his  chief's  tools  ;  with  which,  in  a  sack  large 
enough  to  contain  our  expected  prize,  he  repaired  to  my 
rooms  about  nine  o'clock,  while  the  coach  was  standing 
at  the  door.  Our  Jehu  had  received  a  quiet  douceur  in 
addition  to  the  hire  of  himself  and  coach.  As  soon  as  we 
had  exhibited  sundry  doses  of  Irish  cordial  to  our  friend 
Tip — under  the  effects  of  which  he  became  quite  "bounc- 
ible,"  and  ranted  about  the  feat  he  was  to  take  a  promin- 
ent part  in — and  equipped  ourselves  in  our  worst  clothes, 
and  white  top-coats,  we  entered  the  vehicle — four  in 
number — and  drove  off.  The  weather  had  been  exceed- 
ingly capricious  all  the  evening — moonlight,  rain,  thun- 
der, and  lightning,  fitfully  alternating.  The  only  thing 
we  were  anxious  about  was  the  darkness,  to  shield  us 
from  all  possible  observation.  I  must  own,  that,  in  ana- 
lyzing the  feelings  that  prompted  me  to  undertake  and 
go  through  with  this  affair,  the  mere  love  of  adventure 
operated  quite  as  powerfully  as  the  wish  to  benefit  the 


THE   DIARY    OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  177 

cause  of  anatomical  science.  A  midnight  expedition  to 
the  tombs ! — It  took  our  fancy  amazingly ;  and  then — Sir 
's  cunning  hint  about  the  "danger" — and  our  "spirit"  ! 

The  garrulous  Tip  supplied  us  with  amusement  all  the 
way  down — rattle,  rattle,  rattle,  incessantly ;  but  as  soon 
as  we  had  arrived  at  that  part  of  the  road  where  we  were 

to  stop,  and  caught  sight  of church,  with  its  hoary 

steeple — glistening  in  the  fading  moonlight,  as  though  it 
were  standing  sentinel  over  the  graves  around  it,  one  of 
which  we  were  going  so  rudely  to  violate — Tip's  spirits 
began  to  falter  a  little.  He  said  little — and  that  at  inter- 
vals. To  be  very  candid  with  the  reader,  none  of  us  felt 
over  much  at  our  ease.  Our  expedition  began  to  wear  a 
somewhat  hairbrained  aspect,  and  to  be  environed  with 
formidable  contingencies  which  we  had  not  taken  suf- 
ficiently into  our  calculations.  What,  for  instance,  if  the 
two  stout  fellows,  the  brothers,  should  be  out  watching 
their  sister's  grave?  They  were  not  likely  to  stand  on 
much  ceremony  with  us.  And  then  the  manual  diffi- 
culties. E was  the  only  one  of  us  that  had  ever  as- 
sisted at  the  exhumation  of  a  body — and  the  rest  of  us 
were  likely  to  prove  but  bungling  workmen.  However, 
we  had  gone  too  far  to  think  of  retreating.  We  none  of 
us  spoke  our  suspicions,  but  the  silence  that  reigned 
within  the  coach  was  tolerably  significant.  In  contem- 
plation, however,  of  some  such  contingency,  we  had  put 
a  bottle  of  brandy  in  the  coach  pocket;  and  before  we 
drew  up,  had  all  four  of  us  drunk  pretty  deeply  of  it.  At 
length,  the  coach  turned  down  a  by-lane  to  the  left,  which 
led  directly  to  the  churchyard  wall ;  and  after  moving  a 
few  steps  down  it,  in  order  to  shelter  our  vehicle  from 
the  observation  of  highway  passengers,  the  coach 
stopped,  and  the  driver  opened  the  door. 

"Come,  Tip,"  said  I,  "out  with  you." 

"Get  out,  did  you  say,  sir?  To  be  sure  I  will — Och!  to 
be  sure  I  will."  But  there  was  small  show  of  alacrity  in 
his  movements  as  he  descended  the  steps ;  for,  while  I 
was  speaking,  I  v/as  interrupted  by  the  solemn  clanging 
of  the  church  clock  announcing  the  hour  of  midnight. 


178  THE   DIARY   OF  A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

The  sounds  seemed  to  warn  us  against  what  we  were 
going  to  do. 

"  'Tis  a  cowld  night,  yer  honors,"  said  Tip,  in  an  under 
tone,  as  we  successively  alighted,  and  stood  together, 
looking  up  and  down  the  dark  lane,  to  see  if  anything 
was  stirring  but  ourselves.  "  'Tis  a  cowld  night — and — 
and — and" — he  stammered. 

"Why,  you  cowardly  old  scoundrel,"  grumbled  M , 

"are  you  frightened  already?  What's  the  matter,  eh? 
Hoist  up  the  bag  on  your  shoulders  directly,  and  lead 
the  way  down  the  lane." 

"Och,  but  yer  honors — och!  by  the  mother  that  bore 
me,  but  'tis  a  murtherous  cruel  thing,  I'm  thinking,  to 
wake  the  poor  cratur  from  her  last  sleep."  He  said  this 
so  querulously,  that  I  began  to  entertain  serious  appre- 
hensions, after  all,  of  his  defection ;  so  I  insisted  on  his 
taking  a  little  more  brandy,  by  way  of  bringing  him  up 
to  par.  It  was  of  no  use,  however.  His  reluctance  in- 
creased every  moment — and  it  even  dispirited  us.  I 
verily  believe  the  turning  of  a  straw  would  have  decided 
us  all  on  jumping  into  the  coach  again,  and  returning 
home  without  accomplishing  our  errand.  Too  many  of 
the  students,  however,  were  apprised  of  our  expedition, 
for  us  to  think  of  terminating  it  so  ridiculously.  As  it 
were  by  mutual  consent,  we  stood  and  paused  a  few  mo- 
ments, about  half  way  down  the  lane.     M whistled 

with  infinite  spirit  and  distinctness;  E remarked  to 

me  that  he  "always  thought  a  churchyard  at  midnight 
was  the  gloomiest  object  imaginable ;"  and  I  talked  about 
business — "soon  be  over" — "shallow  grave,"  &c.,  &c. 

"Confound    it — what    if   those    two    brothers    of   hers 

should  be  there?"  said  M abruptly,  making  a  dead 

stop,  and  folding  his  arms  on  his  breast. 

"Powerful  fellows,  both   of  them !"   muttered   E . 

We  resumed  our  march — when  Tip,  our  advanced  guard 
— a  title  he  earned  by  anticipating  our  steps  about  three 
inches — suddenly  stood  still,  let  down  the  bag  from  his 
shoulders,  elevated  both  hands  in  a  listening  attitude, 
and  exclaimed,  "Whisht! — whisht! — By  my  soul,  what 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  179 

was  that?"  We  all  paused  in  silence,  looking  palely  at 
one  another — but  could  hear  nothing  except  the  drowsy- 
flutter  of  a  bat  wheeling  away  from  us  a  little  overhead. 

"Fait — an'  wasn't  it  somebody  spaking  on  the  far  side 
o'  the  hedge,  I  heard?"  whispered  Tip. 

"Poh — stuff,  you  idiot!"  I  exclaimed,  losing  my  tem- 
per.    "Come,  M and  E ,  it's  high  time  we  had 

done  with  all  this  cowardly  nonsense;  and  if  we  mean 
really  to  do  anything,  we  must  make  haste.  'Tis  past 
twelve — day  breaks  about  four — and  it  is  coming  on  wet, 
you  see." 

Several  large  drops  of  rain,  pattering  heavily  among 
the  leaves  and  branches,  corroborated  my  words,  by  an- 
nouncing a  coming  shower,  and  the  air  was  sultry  enough 
to  warrant  the  expectation  of  a  thunder-storm.  We 
therefore  buttoned  up  our  greatcoats  to  the  chin  and 
hurried  on  to  the  churchyard  wall,  which  ran  across  the 
bottom  of  the  lane.  This  wall  we  had  to  climb  over  to 
get  into  the  churchyard,  and  it  was  not  a  very  high  one. 
Here  Tip  annoyed  us  again.  I  told  him  to  lay  down  his 
bag,  mount  the  wall,  and  look  over  into  the  yard,  to  see 
whether  all  was  clear  before  us ;  and,  as  far  as  the  light 
would  enable  him,  to  look  about  for  a  new-made  grave. 
Very  reluctantly  he  complied,  and  contrived  to  scramble 
to  the  top  of  the  wall.  He  had  hardly  time,  however,  to 
peer  over  into  the  churchyard,  when  a  fluttering  streak 
of  lightning  flashed  over  us,  followed,  in  a  second  or  two, 
by  a  loud  burst  of  thunder !  Tip  fell  in  an  instant  to  the 
ground,  like  a  cockchaffer  shaken  from  an  elm-tree,  and 
lay  crossing  himself,  and  muttering  Paternosters.  We 
could  scarcely  help  laughing  at  the  manner  in  which  he 
tumbled  down,  simultaneously  with  the  flash  of  lightning. 

"Now,  look  ye,  gintlemen,"  said  he,  still  squatting  on 
the  ground,  "do  you  mane  to  give  the  poor  cratur  Chris- 
tian burial,  when  ye've  done  wid  her?  An'  will  you  put 
her  back  again  as  ye  found  her?  'Case,  if  you  won't, 
blood  an'  oons " 

"Hark  ye  now,  Tip,"  said  I  sternly,  taking  out  one  of  a 
brace  of   empty   pistols   I   had   put   into   my   greatcoat 


180  THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN 

pocket,  and  presenting  it  to  his  head,  "we  have  hired  you 
on  this  business,  for  the  want  of  a  better,  you  wretched 
fellow !  and  if  you  give  us  any  more  of  your  nonsense,  by 

I'll  send  a  bullet  through  your  brain !    Do  you  hear 

me,  Tip?" 

"Och,  aisy,  aisy  wid  ye !  don't  murther  me !  Bad-luck 
to  me  that  I  ever  cam  wid  ye !  Och,  and  if  iver  I  live  to 
die,  won't  I  see  and  bury  my  ould  body  out  o'  the  rache 
of  all  the  doctors  in  the  world?  If  I  don't,  divel  burn 
me !"  We  all  laughed  aloud  at  Tip's  truly  Hibernian  ex- 
postulation. 

"Come,  sir,  mount!  over  with  you!"  said  we,  helping 
to  push  him  upwards.  "Now,  drop  this  bag  on  the  other 
side,"  we  continued,  giving  him  the  sack  that  contained 
our  implements. 

We  all  three  of  us  then  followed,  and  alighted  safely  in 
the  churchyard.  It  poured  with  rain ;  and,  to  enhance  the 
dreariness  and  horrors  of  the  time  and  place,  flashes  of 
lightning  followed  in  quick  succession,  shedding  a  tran- 
sient awful  glare  over  the  scene,  revealing  the  white 
tombstones,  the  ivy-grown  venerable  church,  and  our 
own  figures,  a  shivering  group,  come  on  an  unhallowed 
errand!  I  perfectly  well  recollect  the  lively  feelings  of 
apprehension — ^"the  compunctious  visitings  of  remorse" 
— which  the  circumstances  called  forth  in  my  own  breast, 
and  which,  I  had  no  doubt,  were  shared  by  my  com- 
panions. 

As  no  time,  however,  was  to  be  lost,  I  left  the  group, 
for  an  instant,  under  the  wall,  to  search  out  the  grave. 
The  accurate  instructions  I  had  received  enabled  me  to 
pitch  on  the  spot  with  little  difficulty;  and  I  returned  to 
my  companions,  who  immediately  followed  me  to  the 
scene  of  operations.  We  had  no  umbrellas,  and  our  great- 
coats were  saturated  with  wet;  but  the  brandy  we  had 
recently  taken  did  us  good  service,  by  exhilarating  our 
spirits,  and  especially  those  of  Tip.  He  untied  the  sack 
in  a  twinkling,  and  shook  out  the  hoes  and  spades,  &c. ; 
and,  taking  one  of  the  latter  himself,  he  commenced  dig- 
ging with  such  energy  that  we  had  hardly  prepared  our- 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  181 

selves  for  work,  before  he  had  cleared  away  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  mound.  The  rain  soon  abated,  and  the 
lightning  ceased  for  a  considerable  interval,  though  thun- 
der was  heard  occasionally  grumbling  sullenly  in  the  dis- 
tance, as  if  expressing  anger  at  our  unholy  doings — at 
least  I  felt  it  so.  The  pitchy  darkness  continued,  so  that 
we  could  scarcely  see  one  another's  figures.  We  worked 
on  in  silence,  as  fast  as  our  spades  could  be  got  into  the 
ground;  taking  it  in  turns,  two  by  two,  as  the  grave 
would  not  admit  of  more.  On — on — on  we  worked,  till 
we  had  hollowed  out  about  three  feet  of  earth.  Tip  then 
hastily  joined  together  a  long  iron  screw  or  borer,  which 
he  thrust  into  the  ground,  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining 
the  depth  at  which  the  coffin  yet  lay  from  us.  To  our 
vexation,  we  found  a  distance  of  three  feet  remained  to 
be  got  through. 

"Sure,  and  by  the  soul  of  St.  Patrick,  but  we'll  not  be 
done  by  the  morning!"  said  Tip,  as  he  threw  down  the 
instrument  and  resumed  his  spade. 

We  were  all  discouraged.  Oh,  how  earnestly  I  wished 
myself  at  home,  in  my  snug  little  bed  in  the  Borough! 
How  I  cursed  the  Quixotism  that  had  led  me  into  such  an 
undertaking!  I  had  no  time,  however,  for  reflection,  as 
it  was  my  turn  to  relieve  one  of  the  diggers ;  so  into  the 
grave  I  jumped,  and  worked  away  as  lustily  as  before. 
While  I  was  thus  engaged,  a  sudden  noise,  close  to  our 
ears,  so  startled  me,  that  I  protest  I  thought  I  should 
have  dropped  down  dead  in  the  grave  I  was  robbing.  I 
and  my  fellow-digger  let  fall  our  spades,  and  all  four 
stood  still  for  a  second  or  two  in  an  ecstasy  of  fearful  ap- 
prehension. We  could  not  see  more  than  a  few  inches 
around  us,  but  heard  the  grass  trodden  by  approaching 
feet!  They  proved  to  be  those  of  an  ass,  that  was  turned 
at  night  into  the  churchyard,  and  had  gone  on  eating 
his  way  towards  us ;  and,  while  we  were  standing  in  mute 
expectation  of  what  was  to  come  next,  opened  on  us  with 
an  astounding  hee-haw!  hee-haw!  Even  after  we  had 
discovered  the  ludicrous  nature  of  the  interruption,  we 
were  too  agitated  to  laugh.    The  brute  was  actually  close 


183  THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN 

upon  us,  and  had  given  tongue  from  under  poor  Tip's 
elbow,  having  approached  him  from  behind,  as  he  stood 
leaning  on  his  spade.  Tip  started  suddenly  backward 
against  the  animal's  head,  and  fell  down.  Away  sprang 
the  jackass,  as  much  confounded  as  Tip,  kicking  and 
scampering  like  a  mad  creature  among  the  tombstones, 
and  hee-hawing  incessantly,  as  if  a  hundred  devils  had 
got  into  it  for  the  purpose  of  discomfiting  us.  I  felt  so 
much  fury,  and  fear  lest  the  noise  should  lead  to  our  dis- 
covery, I  could  have  killed  the  brute  if  it  had  been  within 
my  reach,  while  Tip  stammered,  in  an  affrightened  whis- 
per— "Och,  the  baste!  Och,  the  baste!    The  big  black 

divel  of  a  baste !   The  murtherous,  thundering "  and 

a  great  many  epithets  of  the  same  sort. 

We  gradually  recovered  from  the  agitation  which  this 
provoking  interruption  had  occasioned;  and  Tip,  under 
the  promise  of  two  bottles  of  whiskey  as  soon  as  we  ar- 
rived safe  at  home  with  our  prize,  renewed  his  exertions, 
and  dug  with  such  energy  that  we  soon  cleared  away 
the  remainder  of  the  superincumbent  earth,  and  stood 
upon  the  bare  lid  of  the  coffin.  The  grapplers,  with  ropes 
attached  to  them,  were  then  fixed  in  the  sides  and  ex- 
tremities, and  we  were  in  the  act  of  raising  the  coffin, 
when  the  sound  of  a  human  voice,  accompanied  with  foot- 
steps, fell  on  our  startled  ears.  We  heard  both  distinctly, 
and  crouched  down  close  over  the  brink  of  the  grave, 
awaiting  in  breathless  suspense  a  corroboration  of  our 
fears.  After  a  pause  of  two  or  three  minutes,  however, 
finding  that  the  sounds  were  not  renewed,  we  began  to 
breathe  freer,  persuaded  that  our  ears  must  have  deceived 
us.  Once  more  we  resumed  our  work,  succeeded  in  hoist- 
ing up  the  coffin — not  without  a  slip,  however,  which 
nearly  precipitated  it  down  again  to  the  bottom,  with  all 
four  of  us  upon  it — and  depositing  it  on  the  grave  side. 
Before  proceeding  to  use  our  screws,  or  wrenches,  we 
once  more  looked  and  listened,  and  listened  and  looked; 
but  neither  seeing  nor  hearing  anything,  we  set  to  work, 
pried  off  the  lid  in  a  twinkling,  and  a  transient  glimpse 
of   moonlight   digplgsed    to   us   a   shrouded    inmate — all 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  183 

white  and  damp.  I  removed  the  face-cloth,  and  unpmned 
the  cap,  while  M loosed  the  sleeves  from  the  wrists. 

Thus  were  we  engaged  when  E ,  who  had  hold  of 

the  feet,  ready  to  lift  them  out,  suddenly  let  them  go — 
gasped — "Oh,  my  God!  there  they  are!"  and  placed  his 
hand  on  my  arm.  He  shook  like  an  aspen  leaf.  I  looked 
towards  the  quarter  whither  his  eyes  were  directed,  and, 
sure  enough,  saw  the  figure  of  a  man — if  not  two — mov- 
ing stealthily  towards  us.  "Well,  we're  discovered,  that's 
clear,"  I  whispered  as  calmly  as  I  could.     "We  shall  be 

murdered !"  groaned  E .    "Lend  me  one  of  the  pistols 

you  have  with  you,"  said  M resolutely;  "by I'll 

have  a  shot  for  my  life,  however !"  As  for  poor  Tip,  who 
had  heard  every  syllable  of  this  startling  colloquy,  and 
himself  seeing  the  approaching  figures,  he  looked  at  me 
in  silence,  the  image  of  blank  horror!  I  could  have 
laughed  even  then,  to  see  his  staring  black  eyes — his 
little    cocked    ruby-tinted    nose — his    chattering    teeth. 

"Hush — ^hush !"  said  I,  cocking  my  pistol,  while  M 

did  the  same ;  for  none  but  myself  knew  that  they  were 
unloaded.  To  add  to  our  consternation,  the  malignant 
moon  withdrew  the  small  scantling  of  light  she  had  been 
doling  out  to  us,  and  sank  beneath  a  vast  cloud,  "black 
as  Erebus,"  but  not  before  we  had  caught  a  glimpse  of 
two  more  figures  moving  towards  us  in  an  opposite  di- 
rection. "Surrounded !"  two  of  us  muttered  in  the  same 
breath.  We  all  rose  to  our  feet,  and  stood  together,  not 
knowing  what  to  do — unable  in  the  .darkness  to  see  one 
another  distinctly.  Presently  we  heard  a  voice  say,  in  a 
subdued  tone,  "Where  are  they?  where?  Sure  I  saw 
them!    Oh,  there  they  are!  Halloa — halloa!" 

That  was  enough — the  signal  of  our  flight.  Without 
an  instant's  pause,  or  uttering  another  S3dlable,  off  we 
sprung,  like  small-shot  from  a  gun's  mouth,  all  of  us  in 
different  directions,  we  knew  not  whither.  I  heard  the 
report  of  a  gun — mercy  on  me !  and  pelted  away,  scarcely 
knowing  what  I  was  about,  dodging  among  the  graves — 
now  coming  full-butt  against  a  plaguey  tombstone,  then 
tumbling  on  the  slippery  grass — while  some  one  followed 


184  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

close  at  my  heels  panting  and  puffing  but  whether  friend 
or  foe,  I  knew  not.  At  length  I  stumbled  against  a  large 
tombstone;  and,  finding  it  open  at  the  two  ends,  crept 
under  it,  resolved  there  to  abide  the  issue.  At  the  mo- 
ment of  my  ensconcing  myself,  the  sound  of  a  person's 
footsteps  who  had  followed  me  suddenly  ceased.  I  heard 
a  splashing  sound,  then  a  kicking  and  scrambling,  a  faint 
stifled  cry  of  "Ugh — oh  ugh !"  and  all  was  still.  Doubt- 
less it  must  be  one  of  my  companions,  who  had  been 
wounded.  What  could  I  do,  however  ?  I  did  not  know  in 
what  direction  he  lay — the  night  was  pitch-dark — and 
if  I  crept  from  my  hiding-place,  for  all  I  knew,  I  might 
be  shot  myself.  I  shall  never  forget  that  hour — no, 
never !  There  was  I,  squatting  like  a  toad  on  the  wet 
grass  and  weeds,  not  daring  to  do  more  than  breathe ! 
Here  was  a  predicament !  I  could  not  conjecture  how  the 
affair  would  terminate.  Was  I  to  lie  where  I  was  till 
daylight,  that  then  I  might  step  into  the  arms  of  my 
captors?  What  was  become  of  my  companions? — ^While 
turning  these  thoughts  in  my  mind,  and  wondering  that 
all  was  so  quiet,  my  ear  caught  the  sound  of  the  splashing 
of  water,  apparently  at  but  a  yard  or  two's  distance, 
mingled  with  the  sounds  of  a  half-smothered  human 
voice — "Ugh !  ugh.  Och,  murther,  murther,  murther !" — 
another  splash — "and  isn't  it  dead,  and   drowned,  and 

kilt  I  am" 

Whew !  Tip  in  trouble,  thought  I,  not  daring  to  speak. 
Yes — it  was  poor  Tip,  I  afterwards  found — who  had  fol- 
lowed at  my  heels,  scampering  after  me  as  fast  as  fright 
could  drive  him,  till  his  career  was  unexpectedly  ended 
by  his  tumbling — souse — head  over  heels,  into  a  newly- 
opened  grave  in  his  path,  with  more  than  a  foot  of  water 
in  it.  There  the  poor  fellow  remained,  after  recovering 
from  the  first  shock  of  his  fall,  not  daring  to  utter  a  word 
for  some  time,  lest  he  should  be  discovered — straddling 
over  the  water  with  his  toes  and  elbows  stuck  into  the 
loose  soil  on  each  side  to  support  him.  This  was  his  inte- 
resting position,  as  he  subsequently  informed  me,  at  the 
time  of  uttering  the  sounds  which  first  attracted  my  at- 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  185 

tention.  Though  not  aware  of  his  situation  at  the  time, 
I  was  almost  choked  with  laughter  as  he  went  on  with 
his  soliloquy,  somewhat  in  this  strain : — 

"Och,  Tip,  ye  ould  divel !  Don't  it  sarve  ye  right,  ye 
fool?  Ye  villainous  ould  coffin-robber!  Won't  ye  burn 
for  this  hereafter,  ye  sinner?  Ulaloo!  When  ye  are  dead 
yourself,  may  ye  be  trated  like  that  poor  cratur — and 
yourself  alive  to  see  it!  Och,  hubbaboo!  hubbaboo! 
Isn't  it  sure  that  I'll  be  drowned,  an'  then  it's  kilt  I'll  be !" 
— A  loud  splash  and  a  pause  for  a  few  moments,  as  if 
he  were  re-adjusting  his  footing — "Och !  an  I'm  catching 
my  dith  of  could !  Fait,  an'  it's  a  divel  a  drop  o'  the  two 
bottles  o'  whisky  I'll  ever  see — Och,  och,  och  !"  — another 
splash — "och,  an'  isn't  this  uncomfortable !  Murther  and 
oons ! — if  ever  I  come  out  of  this — shan't  I  be  dead  before 
I  do?" 

"Tip — Tip — Tip  !"  I  whispered  in  a  low  tone.  There 
was  a  dead  silence.  "Tip,  Tip,  where  are  you?  What's 
the  matter,  eh?"  No  answer;  but  he  muttered  in  a  low 
tone  to  himself — "Where  am  I !  by  my  soul !  Isn't  it 
dead,  and  kilt,  and  drowned,  and  murthered  I  am — that's 
all !" 

"Tip— Tip— Tip !"  I  repeated  a  little  louder. 

"Tip,  indeed !  Fait,  ye  may  call,  bad-luck  to  ye — who- 
ever ye  are —  but  it's  divel  a  word  I'll  be  after  spaking 
to  ye." 

"Tip,  you  simpleton!    It's  I —  Mr. ." 

In  an  instant  there  was  a  sound  of  jumping  and  splash- 
ing, as  if  surprise  had  made  him  slip  from  his  standing 
again,  and  he  called  out,  "Whoo!  whoo!   an'   it's  you, 

sweet  Mr.  !  What  is  the  matter  wid  ye?     Are  ye 

kilt?    Where  are  they  all?     Have  they  taken  ye  away, 
every  mother's  son  of  you?"  he  asked  eagerly,  in  a  breath. 

"Why  what  are  you  doing,  Tip?    Where  are  you?" 

"Fait,  an'  it's  being  washed  I  am,  in  the  feet,  and  in  the 
queerest  tub  your  honor  ever  saw !"  A  noise  of  scuffling, 
not  many  yards  off,  silenced  us  both  in  an  instant.  Pres- 
ently I  distinguished  the  voice  of  E ,  calling  out — 

"Help,  M !"   (my  name) — "Where  are  you?"     The 


186  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

noise  increased,  and  seemed  nearer  than  before.  I  crept 
from  my  lurking  place,  and  aided  at  Tip's  resurrection, 
•when  both  of  us  hurried  towards  the  spot  whence  the 
sound  came.  By  the  faint  moonlight,  I  could  just  see  the 
outlines  of  two  figures  violently  struggling  and  grappling 
together.  Before  I  could  come  up  to  them,  both  fell 
down,  locked  in  each  other's  arms,  rolling  over  each  other, 
grasping  one  another's  collars,  gasping  and  panting  as  if 
in  mortal  struggle.     The  moon  suddenly  emerged,  and 

who  do  you  think,  reader,  was  E 's  antagonist  ?    Why, 

the  person  whose  appearance  had  so  discomfited  and 
affrighted  us  all our  coachman.  That  worthy  indi- 
vidual, alarmed  at  our  protracted  stay,  had,  contrary  to 
our  injunctions,  left  his  coach  to  come  and  search  after 
us.  He  it  was  whom  we  had  seen  stealing  towards  us ; 
his  steps — his  voice  had  alarmed  us,  for  he  could  not  see 
us  distinctly  enough  to  discover  whether  we  were  his 
fare  or  not.  He  was  on  the  point  of  whispering  my  name, 
it  seems — when  we  must  all  have  understood  one  another 
— when  lo !  we  all  started  off  in  the  manner  which  has 
been  described ;  and  he  himself,  not  knowing  that  he  was 
the  reason  of  it,  had  taken  to  his  heels, and  fled  for  his  life  ! 
He  supposed  we  had  fallen  into  a  sort  of  ambuscade.  He 
happened  to  hide   himself  behind   the   tombstone   next 

but  one  to  that  which  sheltered  E .    Finding  all  quiet, 

he  and  E ,  as  if  by  mutual  consent,  were  groping  from 

their  hiding-places,  when  they  unexpectedly  fell  foul  of 
one  another — each  too  affrighted  to  speak — and  hence 
the  scuffle. 

After  this  satisfactory  denouement,  we  all  repaired  to 
the  grave's  mouth,  and  found  the  corpse  and  coffin  pre- 
cisely as  we  had  left  them.  We  were  not  many  moments 
in  taking  out  the  body,  stripping  it,  and  thrusting  it  into 
the  sack  we  had  brought.  We  then  tied  the  top  of  the 
sack,  carefully  deposited  the  shroud,  etc.,  in  the  coffin, 
re-screwed  down  the  lid — fearful,  impious  mockery ! — and 
consigned  it  once  more  to  its  resting-place,  Tip  scattering 
a  handful  of  earth  on  the  lid,  and  exclaiming  reverently — 
"An  may  the  Lord  forgive  us  for  what  we  have  done  to 


THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  187 

ye!"    The  coachman  and  I  then  took  the  body  between  us 

to  the  coach,  leaving  M ,  and  E ,  and  Tip  to  fill 

up  the  grave. 

Our  troubles  were  not  yet  ended,  however.  Truly  it 
seemed  as  though  Providence  were  throwing  every  ob- 
stacle in  our  way.  Nothing  went  right.  On  reaching  the 
spot  where  we  had  left  the  coach,  behold  it  lay  several 
yards  farther  in  the  lane,  tilted  into  the  ditch — for  the 
horses,  being  hungry,  and  left  to  themselves,  in  their 
anxiety  to  graze  on  the  verdant  bank  of  the  hedge,  had 
contrived  to  overturn  the  vehicle  in  the  ditch — and  one 
of  the  horses  was  kicking  vigorously  when  we  came  up — 
the  whole  body  off  the  ground — and  resting  on  that  of  his 
companion.  We  had  considerable  difficulty  in  righting 
the  coach,  as  the  horses  were  inclined  to  be  obstreperous. 
We  succeeded,  however — deposited  our  unholy  spoil 
within,  turned  the  horses'  heads  toward  the  high-road, 
and  then,  after  enjoining  Jehu  to  keep  his  place  on  the 
box,  I  went  to  see  how  my  companions  were  getting  on. 
They  had  nearly  completed  their  task,  and  told  me  that 
"shovelling  in  was  surprisingly  easier  than  shovelling 
out!"  We  took  great  pains  to  leave  everything  as  neat, 
and  as  nearly  resembling  what  we  found  it,  as  possible, 
in  order  that  our  visit  might  not  be  suspected.  We  then 
carried  away  each  our  own  tools,  and  hurried  as  fast  as 
possible  to  our  coach,  for  the  dim  twilight  had  already 
stolen  a  march  upon  us,  devoutly  thankful  that,  after  so 
many  interruptions,  we  had  succeeded  in  effecting  our 
object. 

It  was  broad  daylight  before  we  reached  town,  and  a 
wretched  coach  company  we  looked,  all  wearied  and  dirty 
■ — Tip  especially,  who  nevertheless  snored  in  the  corner 
as  comfortably  as  if  he  had  been  warm  in  his  bed.  I 
heartily  resolved  with  him,  on  leaving  the  coach,  that  it 
should  be  "the  divel's  own  dear  self  only  that  should 
timpt  me  out  agin  body-snatching!"* 

*0n  examining  the  body,  we  found  that  Sir  's  suspicions 

were  fully  verified.  It  was  disease  of  the  heart,  but  of  too  com- 
plicated a  nature  to  be  made  intelligible  to  general  readers.  I 
never    heard    that    the    girl's    friends    discovered    our  doings. 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE  SPECTRE-SMITTEN. 

EW  topics  of  medical  literature  have  occasioned 
more  wide  and  contradictory  speculation  than  that 
of  insanity,  with  reference,  as  well  to  its  predis- 
posing and  immediate  causes,  as  its  best  method 
of  treatment.  Since  experience  is  the  only  substratum  of 
real  knowledge,  the  easiest  and  surest  way  of  arriving 
at  those  general  principles  which  may  regulate  both  our 
pathological  and  therapeutical  researches,  especially  con- 
cerning the  subtle,  almost  inscrutable  disorder,  mania, 
is,  when  one  does  meet  with  some  striking,  well  marked 
case,  to  watch  it  closely  throughout,  and  be  particularly 
anxious  to  seize  on  all  those  smaller  features — those 
more  transient  indications,  which  are  truer  characteristics 
of  the  complaint  than  perhaps  any  other.  With  this  ob- 
ject, did  I  pay  close  attention  to  the  very  sing'ular  and 
affecting  case  detailed  in  the  following  narrative.  I  have 
not  given  the  whole  of  my  observations,  far  from  it ;  those 
only  are  recorded  which  seemed  to  me  to  have  some 
claims  to  the  consideration  of  both  medical  and  gen- 
eral readers.  The  apparent  eccentricity  of  the 
title  will  be  found  accounted  for  in  the  course  of  the 
narrative. 

Mr.    M ,    as    one    of    a    very    large   party,    had 

been   enjoying  the   splendid   hospitality   of    Lady   , 

and  did  not  leave  till  a  late,  or  rather  early  hour,  in  the 
morning.  Pretty  women,  music,  and  champagne,  had 
almost  turned  his  head;  and  it  was  rather  fortunate  for 
him  that  a  hackney-coach  stand  was  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  the  house  he  was  leaving.  Muffling  his  cloak 
closely  around  him,  he  contrived  to  move  towards  it  in  a 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  189 

tolerably  direct  line,  and  a  few  moments'  time  beheld  him 
driving,  at  the  usual  snail's  pace  of  those  rickety  vehi- 
cles, to  Lincoln's  Inn ;  for  Mr.  M was  a  law  student. 

In  spite  of  the  transient  exhilaration  produced  by  the 
scenes  he  had  just  quitted,  and  the  excitement  conse- 
quent on  the  prominent  share  he  took  in  an  animated, 
though  accidental  discussion,  in  the  presence  of  about 
thirty  of  the  most  elegant  women  that  could  well  be 
brought  together,  he  found  himself  becoming  the  subject 
of  a   most   unaccountable   depression   of   spirits.      Even 

while  at  Lady 's,  he  had  latterly  preceived  himself 

talking  often  for  mere  talking's  sake,  the  chain  of  his 
thoughts  perpetually  broken,  and  an  impatience  and  irrit- 
ability of  manner  towards  those  whom  he  addressed, 
which  he  readily  resolved,  however,  into  the  reaction  fol- 
lowing high  excitement. 

M ,  I  ought  before,  perhaps,  to  have  mentioned, 

was  a  man  of  great  talent,  chiefly,  however,  imaginative ; 
and  had  that  evening  been  particularly  brilliant  on  his 
favorite  topic,  diablerie  and  mysticism ;  towards  which  he 
generally  contrived  to  incline  every  conversation  in  which 
he  bore  a  part.  He  had  been  dilating,  in  particular,  on 
the  power  possessed  by  Mr.  Maturin  of  exciting  the  most 
fearful  and  horrific  ideas  in  the  minds  of  his  readers,  in- 
stancing a  particular  passage  of  one  of  his  romances,  the 
title  of  which  I  have  forgotten,  where  the  fiend  suddenly 
presents  himself  to  his  appalled  victim,  amidst  the  silence 
and  gloom  of  his  prison-cell.  Long  before  he  had  reached 
home,  the  fumes  of  wine  had  evaporated,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  excitement  subsided ;  and,  with  reference  to  in- 
toxication, he  was  as  sober*  and  calm  as  ever  he  was  in 
his  life.  Why  he  knew  not,  but  his  heart  seemed  to  grow 
heavier  and  heavier,  and  his  thoughts  gloomier,  every 
step  by  which  he  neared  Lincoln's  Inn.  It  struck 
three  o'clock  as  he  entered  the  sombrous  portals 
of  the  ancient  inn  of  court.  The  perfect  silence — 
the  moonlight  shining  sadly  on  the  dusky  build- 
ings— the  cold  quivering  stars,  all  these  together, 
combined     to     enhance     his     nervousness.      He      des- 


190  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

cribed  it  to  me  as  though  things  seemed  to  wear  a 
strange,  spectral,  supernatural  aspect.  Not  a  watchman 
of  the  inn  was  heard  crying  the  hour,  not  a  porter  moving, 
no  living  being  but  himself  visible  in  the  large  square  he 
was  crossing.  As  he  neared  his  staircase,  he  perceived 
his  heart  fluttering;  in  short,  he  felt  under  some  strange, 
unaccountable  influence,  which,  had  he  reflected  a  little, 
he  would  have  discovered  to  arise  merely  from  an  excit- 
able nervous  temperament,  operating  on  an  imagination 
peculiarly  attuned  to  sympathies  with  terror.  His  cham- 
bers lay  on  the  third  floor  of  the  staircase ;  and,  on  reach- 
ing it,  he  found  his  door-lamp  glimmering  with  its  last 
expiring  ray.  He  opened  his  door,  and  after  groping 
some  time  in  the  dark  of  his  sitting-room,  found  his  cham- 
ber candlestick.  In  attempting  to  light  his  candle,  he  put 
out  the  lamp.  He  went  down-stairs,  but  found  that  the 
lamp  of  every  landing  had  shared  the  fate  of  his  own ;  so 
he  returned,  rather  irritated,  thinking  to  amerce  the  por- 
ter of  his  customary  Christmas-box  for  his  niggard  supply 
of  oil.  After  some  time  spent  in  the  search,  he  discovered 
his  tinder-box,  and  proceeded  to  strike  a  light.  This  was 
not  the  work  of  a  moment.  And  where  is  the  bachelor 
to  whom  it  is?    The  potent  spark,  however,  dropped  at 

last  into  the  very  centre  of  the  soft  tinder.   M blew — 

it  caught — spread ;  the  match  quickly  kindled,  and  he 
lighted  his  candle.  He  took  it  in  his  hand,  and  was  mak- 
ing for  bed,  when  his  eyes  caught  a  glimpse  of  an  ob- 
ject which  brought  him  senseless  to  the  floor.  The  fur- 
niture of  his  room  was  disposed  as  when  he  had  left  it; 
for  his  laundress  had  neglected  to  come  and  put  things 
in  order ;  the  table  with  a  few  books  on  it  was  drawn 
towards  the  fire-place,  and  by  its  side  stood  the  ample- 
cushioned  easy-chair.  The  first  object  visible,  with  sud- 
den distinctness,  was  a  figure  sitting  in  the  arm-chair. 
It  was  that  of  a  gentleman  dressed  in  dark-colored 
clothes,  his  hands,  white  as  alabaster,  closed  together 
over  his  lap,  and  the  face  looking  away;  but  it  turned 

slowly  towards  M ,  revealing  to  him  a  countenance  of 

a  ghastly  hue — the  features  glowing  like  steel  heated  to 


THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  191 

a  white  heat,  and  two  eyes  turned  full  towards  him,  and 
blazing — absolutely  blazing,  he  described  it — with  a  most 

horrible  lustre.     The   appalling  spectre,  while   M 's 

eyes  were  riveted  upon  it,  though  glazing  fast  with 
fright,  slowly  rose  from  its  seat,  stretched  out  both  its 
arms,  and  seemed  approaching  him,  when  he  fell  down 
senseless  on  the  floor,  as  if  smitten  with  apoplexy. 

He  recollected  nothing  more,  till  he  found  himself, 
about  the  middle  of  the  next  day,  in  bed,  his  laundress, 
myself,  and  apothecary,  and  several  others,  standing 
round  him.  His  situation  was  not  discovered  till  more 
than  an  hour  after  he  had  fallen,  as  nearly  as  could  be 
subsequently  ascertained,  nor  would  it  then  but  for  a 
truly  fortunate  accident.  He  had  neglected  to  close 
either  of  his  outer-doors  (I  believe  it  is  usual  for  cham- 
bers in  the  inns  of  court  to  have  double  outer-doors), 
and  an  old  woman,  who  happened  to  be  leaving  the  ad- 
joining set  about  five  o'clock,  on   seeing  Mr.   M 's 

doors  both  open  at  such  an  untimely  hour,  was  induced, 
by  feelings  of  curiosity  and  alarm,  to  return  to  the 
rooms  she  had  left  for  a  light,  with  which  she  entered 
his  chambers,  after  having  repeatedly  called  his  name 
without  receiving  any  answer.  What  will  it  be  supposed 
had  been  her  occupation  at  such  an  early  hour  in  the  ad- 
joining chambers? — Laying  out  the  corpse  of  their  oc- 
cupant, a  Mr.  T ,  who  had  expired  about  eight  o'clock 

the  preceding  evening! 

Mr.  M had  known  him,  though  not  very  inti- 
mately :  and  there  were  some  painful  circumstances  at- 
tending  his    death,    which,    even    though    on    no   other 

grounds  than  mere  sympathy,  M had  laid  much  to 

heart.  In  addition  to  this,  he  had  been  observed  by  his 
friends  as  being  latterly  the  subject  of  very  high  excite- 
ment, owing  to  the  successful  prosecution  of  an  affair  of 
great  interest  and  importance.  We  all  accounted  for  his 
present  situation  by  referring  it  to  some  apoplectic  seiz- 
ure ;  for  we  were,  of  course,  ignorant  of  the  real  occasion, 
fright,  which  I  did  not  learn  till  long  afterwards.  The 
laundress  told  me  that  she  had  found  Mr.  M ,  to  her 


192  THE  t)lARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

great  terror,  stretched  motionless  along  the  floor,  in  his 
cloak  and  full  dress,  and  with  a  candlestick  lying  beside 
him.  She,  at  first,  supposed  him  to  be  intoxicated ;  but 
on  finding  all  her  efforts  to  rouse  him  unsuccessful,  and 
seeing  his  fixed  features  and  rigid  frame,  she  hastily  sum- 
moned to  her  assistance  a  fellow-laundress,  whom  she  had 
left  in  charge  of  the  corpse  next  door,  undressed  him,  and 
laid  him  on  the  bed.  A  neighboring  medical  man  was  then 
called  in,  who  pronounced  it  to  be  a  case  of  epilepsy ;  and 
he  was  sufficiently  warranted  by  the  appearance  of  a 
little  froth  about  the  lips,  prolonged  stupor,  resembling 
sleep,  and  frequent  convulsions  of  the  most  violent  kind. 
The  remedies  resorted  to  produced  no  alleviation  of  the 
symptoms ;  and  matters  continued  to  wear  such  a  threat- 
ening and  alarming  aspect,  that  I  was  summoned  in  by 
his  brother,  and  was  at  his  bedside  by  two  o'clock.  His 
countenance  was  dark,  and  highly  intellectual ;  its  linea- 
ments were,  naturally,  full  of  power  and  energy;  but  now, 
overclouded  with  an  expression  of  trouble  and  horror. 
He  was  seized  with  a  dreadful  fit  soon  after  I  had  entered 
the  room.  Oh !  it  is  a  piteous  and  shocking  spectacle  to 
see  a  human  frame  subjected  to  such  demoniacal  twitch- 
ings  and  contortions,  which  are  so  sudden,  so  irresistible, 
as  to  suggest  the  idea  of  some  vague,  terrible,  exciting 
cause,  which  cannot  be  discovered:  as  though  the  suf- 
ferer lay  passive  in  the  grasp  of  some  messenger  of  dark- 
ness "sent  to  buffet  him."* 

*The  popular  etymology  of  the  word  epilepsy,  sanctioned  by 
several  reputable  class-books  of  the  profession,  which  are  now 
lying  before  me — i.  e.,  kniX'EIipic  is  erroneous,  ^nd  more — non- 
sensical. For  the  information  of  general  readers,  I  may  state, 
that  its  true  derivation  is  from  Tiuufiavu,  through  its  Ionic  ob- 
solete form,  Iv^u:  whence  £mAHi/«? — a  seizing,  a  holding  fast. 
Therefore  we  speak  of  an  attack  of  epilepsy.  This  etymology  is 
highly  descriptive  of  the  disease  in  question;  for  the  sudden 
prostration,  rigidity,  contortions,  &c.,  of  the  patient,  strongly 
suggest  the  idea  that  he  has  been  taken  or  seized  (kTTilTi(j)dElq) 
by,  as  it  were,  some  external  invisible  agent.  It  is  worthy_  of 
notice,  by  the  way,  that  kiri^nTiKbg  is  used  by  eccleiastical 
writers  to  denote  a  person  possessed  by  a  demon. —  EnlTieiipcr, 
signifies  simply  "failure,  deficiency."  I  shall  conclude  this  note 
with  a  practical  illustration  of  the  necessity  which  calls  it 
forth — the  correction  of  a  prevalent  error.  A  flippant  student, 
who,  I  was  given  to  understand,  plumed  himself  much  among 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  193 

M was  a  very  powerful  man ;  and,  during  the  fits, 

it  was  next  to  impossible  for  all  present,  united,  to  con- 
trol his  movements.  The  foam  at  his  mouth  suggested 
to  his  terrified  brother  the  harrowing  suspicion  that  the 
case  was  one  of  hydrophobia.  None  of  my  remon- 
strances or  assurances  to  the  contrary  sufficed  to  quiet 
him,  and  his  distress  added  to  the  confusion  of  the  scene. 
After  prescribing  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  I  left,  con- 
sidering the  case  to  be  one  of  simple  epilepsy.  During 
the  rest  of  the  day  and  night  the  fits  abated  both  in  vio- 
lence and  frequency ;  but  he  was  left  in  a  state  of  the 
utmost  exhaustion,  from  which,  however,  he  seemed  to 
be  rapidly  recovering  during  the  space  of  the  four  suc- 
ceeding days ;  when  I  was  suddenly  summoned  to  his 
bedside,  which  I  had  left  only  two  hours  before,  with  the 
intelligence  that  he  had  disclosed  symptoms  of  more 
alarming  illness  than  ever.  I  hurried  to  his  chambers, 
and  found  that  the  danger  had  not  been  magnified.  One 
of  his  friends  met  me  on  the  staircase,  and  told  me  that, 

about  half  an  hour  before,  while  he  and  Mr.  C M , 

the  patient's  brother,  were  sitting  beside  him,  he  sud- 
denly turned  to  the  latter,  and  inquired,  in  a  tone  full  of 
apprehension  and  terror,  "Is  Mr.  T dead?" 

"Oh,  dear!  yes;  he  died  several  days  ago,"  was  the  re- 
ply. 

"Then  it  was  he,"  he  gasped,  "it  was  he  whom  I  saw, 
and  he  is  surely  damned!  Yes,  merciful  Maker!  he  is,  he 
is!"  he  continued,  elevating  his  voice  to  a  perfect  roar; 
"and  the  flames  have  reduced  his  face  to  ashes  !  Horror ! 
horror!  horror!"  He  then  shut  his  eyes,  and  relapsed 
into  silence  for  about  ten  minutes,  when  he  exclaimed, 
"Hark  you,  there — secure  me !  tie  me !  make  me  fast,  or 
I  shall  burst  upon  you  and  destroy  you  all,  for  I  am  go- 

his  companions  on  his  Greek,  was  suddenly  asked  by  one  of 
his  examiners  for  a  definition  of  epilepsy,  grounded  on  its 
etymology.  I  forget  the  definition  which  was  given  with  infinite 
self-sufficiency  of  tone  and  manner;  but  the  fine  touch  of  schol- 
arship with  which  it  was  finished  off,  I  well  recollect: — "From 
ETcD^ciptc — {h-i-leLiru — I  fail,  am  wanting) ;  therefore,  sir.  epilepsy 
is  a  failure  of  animal  functions!" — The  same  sage  definition  is 
regularly  given  by  a  well-known  metropolitan  lecturer. 


194  THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN 

ing  mad — I  feel  It !"  He  ceased,  and  commenced  breath- 
ing fast  and  heavily,  his  chest  heaving  as  if  under  the 
pressure  of  enormous  weight,  and  his  swelling,  quiver- 
ing features  evidenced  the  dreadful  uproar  within.  Pres- 
ently he  began  to  grind  his  teeth,  and  his  expanding  eyes 
glared  about  him  in  all  directions,  as  if  following  the 
motions  of  some  frightful  object,  and  he  muttered  fiercely 
through  his  closed  teeth,  "Oh!  save  me  from  him — save 
me — save  me !" 

It  was  a  fearful  thing  to  see  him  lying  in  such  a  state, 
grinding  his  teeth  as  if  he  would  crush  them  to  powder — 
his  livid  lips  crested  with  foam — his  features  swollen, 
writhing,  blackening;  and  which  gave  his  face  a  pecul- 
iarly horrible  and  fiendish  expression,  his  eyes  distorted, 
or  inverted  upwards,  so  that  nothing  but  the  glaring 
whites  of  them  could  be  seen — his  whole  frame  rigid — 
and  his  hands  clenched,  as  though  they  would  never  open 
again !  It  is  a  dreadful  tax  on  one's  nerves  to  have  to  en- 
counter such  objects,  familiar  though  medical  men  are 
with  such  and  similar  spectacles ;  and,  in  the  present  in- 
stance, every  one  round  the  bedside  of  the  unfortunate 
patient,  stood  trembling  with  pale  and  momentarily 
averted  faces.  The  ghastly,  fixed,  upturning  of  the  eyes 
in  epileptic  patients,  fills  me  with  horror  whenever  I  re- 
call their  image  to  my  mind  ! 

The  return  of  these  epileptic  fits,  in  such  violence,  and 
after  such  an  interval,  alarmed  me  with  apprehensions, 
lest,  as  is  not  unfrequently  the  case,  apoplexy  should  su- 
pervene, or  even  ultimate  insanity.  It  was  rather  sin- 
gular that  M was  never  known  to  have  had  an  epilep- 
tic fit  previous  to  the  present  seizure,  and  he  was  then  in 
his  twenty-fifth  year.  I  was  conjecturing  what  sudden 
fright  or  blow, or  accident  of  any  kind,  or  congestion  of  the 
vessels  of  the  brain  from  frequent  inebriation,  could  have 
brought  on  the  present  fit,  when  my  patient,  whose  fea- 
tures had  gradually  sunk  again  into  their  natural  dispo- 
sition, gave  a  sigh  of  exhaustion — the  perspiration  burst 
forth,  and  he  murmured — some  time  before  we  could  dis- 
tinctly catch  the  words — "Oh !  spectre-smitten,  spectre- 


THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN  195 

smitten!" — (which  expression  I  have  adopted  as  the  title 
of  this  paper) — "I  shall  never  recover  again!"  Though 
sufficiently  surprised,  and  perplexed  about  the  import  of 
the  words,  we  took  no  notice  of  them ;  but  endeavored 
to  divert  his  thoughts  from  the  fantasy,  if  such  there 
were,  which  seemed  to  possess  him,  by  inquiring  into 
the  nature  of  his  symptoms.  He  disregarded  us,  how- 
ever; feebly  grasped  my  hand  in  his  clammy  fingers,  and, 
looking  at  me  languidly,  muttered — "What — oh,  what 
brought  the  fiend   into  by  chambers?" — and   I  felt  his 

whole  frame  pervaded  by  a  cold  shiver — *Toor  T , 

Horrid  fate!" 

On  hearing  him  mention  T 's  name,  we  all  looked 

simultaneously  at  one  another,  but  without  speaking; 
for  a  suspicion  crossed  our  minds  that  his  highly  wrought 
feelings,  acting  on  a  strong  imagination,  always  tainted 
with  superstitious  terrors,  had  conjured  up  some  hideous 
object,  which  had  scared  him  nearly  to  madness — prob- 
ably some  fancied  apparition  of  his  deceased  neighbor. 
He  began  again  to  utter  long  deep-drawn  groans,  that 
gradually  gave  place  to  the  heavy  stertorous  breathing, 
which  with  other  symptoms — his  pulse,  for  instance, 
beating  about  115  a-minute — confirmed  me  in  the  opin- 
ion that  he  was  suffering  from  a  very  severe  congestion 
of  the  vessels  of  the  brain.  I  directed  copious  vene- 
section*— his  head  to  be  shaven,  and  covered  perpetually 
with  cloths  soaked  in  evaporating  lotions — blisters  be- 
hind his  ears  and  at  the  nape  of  the  neck — and  appropri- 
ate internal  medicines.  I  then  left  him,  apprehending  the 
worst  consequences :  for  I  had  once  before  a  similar  case 
under  my  care — one  in  which  a  young  lady  was,  which 
I  strongly  suspected  to  be  the  case  with  M ,  abso- 
lutely frightened  to  death,  and  went  through  nearly  the 
same  round  of  symptoms  as  those  which  were  beginning 
to  make  their  appearance  in  my  present  patient — a  sud- 
den epileptic  seizure,  terminating  in  outrageous  madness, 
which  destroyed  both  the  physical  and  intellectual  ener- 

*For  using  this  word,  and  one  above,  "stertorous,"  a  weekly 
work  accuses  the  writer  of  pedantry! 


196  THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN 

gles ;  and  the  young  lady  expired.  I  may  possibly  here- 
after prepare  for  publication  some  of  my  notes  of  her 
case,  which  had  some  very  remarkable  features.* 

♦Through  want  of  time  and  room,  I  am  compelled  to  con- 
dense my  memoranda  of  the  case  alluded  to  into  a  note.     The 

circumstances  occurred  in  the  year  1813.     The   Hon.   Miss 

was  a  young  woman  about  eighteen  or  twenty  years  of  age;  and 
being  of  a  highly  fanciful  turn,  betook  herself  to  congenial  lit- 
erature, in  the  shape  of  novels  and  romances,  especially  those 
which  dealt  with  "unearthlies."  They  pushed  out  of  her  head 
all  ideas  of  real  life;  for  morning,  noon,  and  night,  beheld  her 
bent  over  the  pages  of  some  absorbing  tale  or  other,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  all  other  kinds  of  reading.  The  natural  consequence 
of  all  this  was,  that  she  became  one  of  the  most  fanciful  and 
timorous  creatures  breathing.  She  had  worked  herself  up  to 
such  a  morbid  pitch  of  sensitiveness  and  apprehension,  that  she 
dared  hardly  be  alone  even  during  the  day;  and  as  for  night- 
time, she  had  a  couple  of  candles  always  burning  in  her  bed- 
room, and  her  maid  sleeping  with  her  on  a  side-bed. 

One  night  about  twelve  o'clock.  Miss  and  her  maid  re- 
tired to  bed,  the  former  absorbed  and  lost  in  the  scenes  of  a 
petrifying  romance  she  had  finished  reading  only  an  hour  be- 
fore. Her  maid  had  occasion  to  go  down-stairs  again  for  the 
purpose  of  fetching  up  some  curling-papers;  and  she  had 
scarcely  reached  the  lower  landing  on  her  return,  before  she 
heard  a  faint  scream  proceed  from  her  young  mistress's  cham- 
ber.    On  hurrying  back,  the  servant  beheld  Miss  stretched 

senseless  on  the  floor,  with  both  hands  pressed  upon  her  eyes. 
She  instantly  roused  the  whole  family;  but  their  efforts  were 
unavailing.  Miss  was  in  a  fit  of  epilepsy,  and  medical  as- 
sistance was  called  in.  I  was  one  of  the  first  that  was  sum- 
moned. For  two  days  she  lay  in  a  state  closely  resembling  that 
of  Mr.  in  the  text;  but  in  about  a  week's  time  she  recov- 
ered consciousness,  and  was  able  to  converse  calmly  and  con- 
nectedly. She  told  me  that  she  had  been  frightened  into  the  fit; 
that  a  few  moments  after  the  maid  had  left  her,  on  the  night 
alluded  to,  she  sat  down  before  her  dressing-glass,  which  had 
two  candles,  in  branches  from  each  side  of  it.  She  was  hardly 
seated,  before  a  "strange  sensation  seized  her,"  to  use  her  own 
words.  She  felt  cold  and  nervous.  The  bedroom  was  both 
spacious  and  gloomy,  and  she  did  not  relish  the  idea  of  being 
left  alone  in  it.  She  rose  and  went  towards  the  bed  for  her 
nightcap;  and  on  pushing  aside  the  heavy  damask  curtains,  she 
heard  a  rustling  noise  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  bed,  as  if 
some  one  had  hastily  leaped  off.  She  trembled,  and  her  heart 
beat  hard.  She  resumed  her  seat,  however,  with  returning  self- 
possession,  on  hearing  the  approaching  footsteps  of  her  maid. 
On  suddenly  directing  her  eyes  towards  the  glass,  they  met  the 
dim  outline  of  a  figure  standing  close  behind  her  with  frightful 
features,  and  a  pendant  plume  of  a  faint  fiery  hue!  The  rest  has 
been  told.  Her  mind,  however,  long  weakened,  and  her  physical 
energies  disordered,  had  received  too  severe  a  shock  to  recover 

from  it  quickly.     A  day  or  two  after  Miss  had  told  me  the 

above,  she  suffered  a  sudden  and  most  unexpected  relapse.  Oh, 
that  merciless  and  fiendish  epilepsy! — how  it  tossed  about  those 
tender  limbs! — how  it   distorted   and   convulsed   those   fair  and 


THE   DIARY   OF   A   LATE   PHYSICIAN  197 

The  next  morning,  about  eleven,  saw  me  again  at  Mr. 

M 's  chambers,  where  I  found  three  or  four  members 

of  his  family — two  of  them  his  married  sisters — seated 
round  his  sitting-room  fire,  in  melancholy  silence.     Mr. 

,  the  apothecary,  had  just  left,  but  was  expected  to 

return  every  moment  to  meet  me  in  consultation.  My 
patient  lay  alone  in  his  bedroom  asleep,  and  apparently 
better  that  he  had  been  since  his  first  seizure.  He  had 
experienced  only  one  slight  fit  during  the  night ;  and 
though  he  had  been  a  little  delirious  in  the  earlier  part 
of  the  evening,  he  had  been,  on  the  whole,  so  calm  and 
quiet,  that  his  friends'  apprehensions  of  insanity  were 
beginning  to  subside ;  so  he  was  left,  as  I  said,  alone ;  for 
the  nurse,  just  before  my  arrival,  had  left  her  seat  by  his 
bedside  for  a  few  moments,  thinking  him  "in  a  comfort- 
able and  easy  nap,"  and  was  engaged,  in  a  low  whisper, 

conversing  with  the  members  of  M 's  family,  who 

were  in  the  sitting-room.     Hearing  such  a  report  of  my 

handsome  features.  To  see  the  mild  eye  of  beauty  subjected  to 
the  horrible  upturned  glare  described  above,  and  the  slender 
fingers  black  and  clenched — the  froth  bubbling  on  the  lips — the 
grinding  of  the  teeth! — would  it  not  shock  and  wring  the  heart 
of  the  beholder?  It  did  mine,  accustomed  as  I  am  to  such 
spectacles. 

Insanity  at  length  made  its  appearance,  and  locked  its  hap- 
less victim  in  its  embraces  for  nearly  a  year.  She  was  re- 
moved to  a  private  asylum,  and  for  six  weeks  was  chained  by 
a  staple  to  the  wall  of  her  bedroom,  in  addition  to  enduring  a 
strait  waistcoat.  On  one  occasion  I  saw  her  in  one  of  her 
most  frantic  moods.  She  cursed  and  swore  in  the  most  dia- 
bolical manner,  and  yelled,  and  laughed,  and  chattered  her  teeth, 
and  spit!  The  beautiful  hair  had  been  shaved  off,  and  was  then 
scarce  half  an  inch  long,  so  that  she  hardly  looked  like  a  fe- 
male about  the  head.  The  eyes,  too,  were  surrounded  by  dark 
areolae,  and  her  mouth  disfigured  by  her  swollen  tongue  and 
lips,  which  she  had  severely  bitten.  She  motioned  me  to  draw 
near  her,  when  she  had  become  a  little  more  tranquil,  and  I 
thoughtlessly  acceded.  When  I  was  within  a  foot  of  her,  she 
made  a  sudden  desperate  plunge  towards  me,  motioning  with 
her  lips  as  though  she  would  have  torn  me,  like  a  tigress  its 
prey!  I  thank  God  that  her  hands  were  handcuffed  behind  her, 
or  I  must  have  suffered  severely.  She  once  Lit  off  the  little 
finger  of  one  of  the  nurses  who  was  feeding  her! 

When  she  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  be  removed  from  

House,  she  was  taken  to  the  south  of  France  by  my  direc- 
tions. She  was  in  a  very  shattered  state  of  health,  and  sur- 
vived her  removal  no  more  than  three  months. 

Who  can  deny  that  this  poor  girl  fell  a  victim  to  the  pestilent 
effects  of  romance  reading? 


198  THE   DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

patient,  I  sat  down  quietly  among  his  relatives,  deter- 
mining not  to  disturb  him,  at  least  till  the  arrival  of  the 
apothecary.  Thus  were  we  engaged,  questioning  the 
nurse  in  an  undertone,  when  a  loud  laugh  from  the  bed- 
room suddenly  silenced  our  whisperings,  and  turned  us 
all  pale.  We  started  to  our  feet  with  blank  amazement 
in  each  countenance,  scarcely  crediting  the  evidence  of 

our  senses.    Could  it  be  M ?    It  must,  there  was  none 

else  in  the  room.    What,  then,  was  he  laughing  about?     . 

While  we  were  standing  silently  gazing  on  one  another, 
with  much  agitation,  the  laugh  was  repeated,  but  longer 
and  louder  than  before,  accompanied  with  the  sound  of 
footsteps,  now  crossing  the  room — then,  as  if  of  one 
jumping!  The  ladies  turned  paler  than  before  and 
seemed  scarcely  able  to  stand.  They  sank  again  into 
their  chairs,  gasping  with  terror.  "Go  in,  nurse,  and  see 
what's  the  matter,"  said  I,  standing  by  the  side  of  the 
younger  of  the  ladies,  whom  I  expected  every  instant  to 
fall  into  my  arms  in  a  swoon. 

"Doctor! — go  in? — I — I — I  dare  not!"  stammered  the 
nurse,  pale  as  ashes,  and  trembling  violently. 

"Do  you  come  here,  then,  and  attend  to  Mrs. ," 

said  I,  "and  I  will  go  in."  The  nurse  staggered  to  my 
place,  in  a  state  not  far  removed  from  that  of  the  lady 
whom  she  was  called  to  attend ;  for  a  third  laugh — long, 
loud,  uproarious — had  burst  from  the  room  while  I  was 
speaking.  After  cautioning  the  ladies  and  the  nurse  to 
observe  profound  silence,  and  not  to  attempt  following 
me  till  I  sent  for  them,  I  stepped  noiselessly  to  the  bed- 
room door,  and  opened  it  slowly  and  softly  not  to  alarm 
him.  All  was  silent  within;  but  the  first  object  that  pre- 
sented itself,  when  I  saw  fairly  into  the  room,  can  never 
be  efifaced  from  my  mind  to  the  day  of  my  death.  Mr. 

M had  got  out  of  bed,  pulled  off  his  shirt,  and  stepped 

to  the  dressing-table,  where  he  stood  stark  naked  before 
the  glass,  with  a  razor  in  his  right  hand,  with  which  he 
had  just  finished  shaving  off  his  eyebrows ;  and  he  was 
eyeing  himself  steadfastly  in  the  glass,  holding  the  razor 
elevated  above  his  head.  On  seeing  the  door  open,  and  my 


'      THE   DIARY   OF   A    LATE   PHYSICIAN  199 

face  peering  at  him,  he  turned  full  towards  me,  (the  gro- 
tesque aspect  of  his  countenance,  denuded  of  so  promin- 
ent a  feature  as  the  eyebrows,  and  his  head  completely 
shaved,  and  the  wildfire  of  madness  flashing  from  his 
staring  eyes,  exciting  the  most  frightful  ideas,)  brandish- 
ing the  razor  over  his  head  with  an  air  of  triumph,  and 
shouting  nearly  at  the  top  of  his  voice — "Ah,  ha,  ha! — 
What  do  you  think  of  this?" 

Merciful  Heaven !  may  I  never  be  placed  again  in 
such  perilous  circumstances,  nor  have  my  mind  over- 
whelmed with  such  a  gush  of  horror  as  burst  over  it  at 
that  moment!  What  was  I  to  do?  Obeying  a  sudden 
impulse,  I  had  entered  the  room,  shutting  the  door  after 
me;  and,  should  any  one  in  the  sitting-room  suddenly 
attempt  to  open  it  again,  or  make  a  noise  or  distur- 
bance of  any  kind,  by  giving  vent  to  their  emotions, 
what  was  to  become  of  the  madman  or  ourselves?  He 
might,  in  an  instant,  almost  sever  his  head  from  his  shoul- 
ders, or  burst  upon  me  or  his  sisters,  and  do  us  some 
deadly  mischief !  I  felt  conscious  that  the  lives  of  all  of 
us  depended  on  my  conduct;  and  I  devoutly  thank  God 
for  the  measure  of  tolerable  self-possession  which  was 
vouchsafed  to  me  at  that  dreadful  moment.  I  continued 
standing  like  a  statue,  motionless  and  silent,  endeavoring 
to  fix  my  eye  on  him,  that  I  might  gain  the  command  of 
his;  that  successful,  I  had  some  hopes  of  being  able  to 
deal  with  him.  He,  in  turn,  now  stood  speechless,  and  I 
thought  he  was  quailing — that  I  had  overmastered  him — 
when  I  was  suddenly  fit  to  faint  with  despair,  for  at  that 
awful  instant  I  heard  the  door-handle  tried — the  door 
pushed  gently  open — and  saw  the  nurse,  I  supposed,  or 
one  of  the  ladies  peeping  through  it.  The  maniac  also 
heard  it — the  spell  was  broken — and,  in  a  frenzy,  he 
leaped  several  times  successively  in  the  air,  brandish- 
ing the  razor  over  his  head  as  before. 

While  he  was  in  the  midst  of  these  feats,  I  turned  my 
head  hurriedly  to  the  person  who  had  so  cruelly  dis- 
obeyed my  orders,  thereby  endangering  my  life,  and 
whispered  in  low  affrighted  accents :     "At  the  peril  of 


200  THE    DIARY    OF   A    LATE    PHYSICIAN 

your  lives — of  mine — shut  the  door — away,  away — hush ! 
or  we  are  all  murdered !"  I  was  obeyed — the  intruder 
withdrew,  and  I  heard  a  sound  as  if  she  had  fallen  to  the 
floor,  probably  in  a  swoon.  Fortunately  the  madman  was 
so  occupied  with  his  antics,  that  he  did  not  observe  what 
had  passed  at  the  door.  It  was  the  nurse  who  made  the 
attempt  to  discover  what  was  going  on,  I  afterwards 
learned — but  unsuccessfully,  for  she  had  seen  nothing. 
My  injunctions  were  obeyed  to  the  letter,  for  they  main- 
tained a  profound  silence,  unbroken  but  for  a  faint  sigh- 
ing sound,  which  I  should  not  have  heard,  but  my  ears 
were  painfully  sensitive  to  the  slightest  noise.  To  re- 
turn, however,  to  myself,  and  my  fearful  chamber  com- 
panion. 

"Mighty  talisman!"  he  exclaimed,  holding  the  razor 
before  him,  and  gazing  earnestly  at  it,  "how  utterly  un- 
worthy— how  infamous  the  common  use  men  put  thee 
to !"  Still  he  continued  standing  with  his  eyes  fixed  in- 
tently upon  the  dread  weapon — I  all  the  while  uttering 
not  a  sound,  nor  moving  a  muscle,  but  waiting  for  our 
eyes  to  meet  once  more. 

"Ha!   Doctor  !   how  easily   I   keep   you   at  bay, 

though  little  my  weapon — thus,"  he  gaily  exclaimed,  at 
the  same  time  assuming  one  of  the  postures  of  the  broad- 
sword exercise ;  but  I  observed  that  he  cautiously  avoided 
meeting  my  eye  again.  I  crossed  my  arms  submissively 
on  my  breast,  and  continued  in  perfect  silence,  endeavor- 
ing, but  in  vain,  to  catch  a  glance  of  his  eye.  I  did  not 
wish  to  excite  any  emotion  in  him,  except  such  as  might 
have  a  tendency  to  calm,  pacify,  disarm  him.  Seeing  me 
stand  thus,  and  manifesting  no  disposition  to  meddle 
with  him,  he  raised  his  left  hand  to  his  face,  and  rubbed 
his  fingers  rapidly  over  the  site  of  his  shaved  eyebrows. 
He  seemed,  I  thought,  inclined  to  go  over  them  a  sec- 
ond time,  when  a  knock  was  heard  at  the  outer  chamber 

door,  which  I  instantly  recognized  as  that  of  Mr.  , 

the  apothecary.  The  madman  also  heard  it,  and  turned 
suddenly  pale,  and  moved  away  from  the  glass  opposite 
which  he  had  been  stooping.     "Oh — oh!"   he   groaned, 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  201 

while  his  features  assumed  an  air  of  the  blankest  affright, 
every  muscle  quivering,  and  every  limb  trembling  from 

head  to  foot — "Is  that — is — is  that  T come  for  me?" 

He  let  fall  the  razor  on  the  floor,  and  clasping  his  hands 
in  an  agony  of  apprehension,  he  retreated,  crouching  and 
cowering  down  towards  the  more  distant  part  of  the 
room,  where  he  continued  peering  round  the  bed-post, 
his  eyes  straining,  as  though  they  would  start  from  their 
sockets,  and  fixed  steadily  upon  the  door.  I  heard  him 
rustling  the  bed-curtain  and  shaking  it ;  but  very  gently, 
as  if  wishing  to  cover  and  conceal  himself  within  its  folds. 

O  humanity  ! — Was  that  poor  being — that  pitiable 
maniac — was  that  the  once  gay,  gifted,  brilliant  M ? 

To  return.  My  attention  was  wholly  occupied  with  one 
object,  the  razor  on  the  floor.  How  I  thanked  God  for 
the  gleam  of  hope  that  all  might  yet  be  right — that  I 
might  succeed  in  obtaining  possession  of  the  deadly 
weapon,  and  putting  it  beyond  his  reach !  But  how  was  I 
to  do  all  this?  I  stole  gradually  towards  the  spot  where 
the  razor  lay,  without  removing  once  my  eye  from  his, 
nor  he  his  from  the  dreaded  door,  intending,  as  soon  as  I 
should  have  come  pretty  near  it,  to  make  a  sudden  snatch 
at  the  horrid  implement  of  destruction.  I  did — I  suc- 
ceeded— I  got  it  into  my  possession,  scarcely  crediting 
my  senses.    I  had  hardly  grasped  my  prize  when  the  door 

opened,  and  Mr. ,  the  apothecary,  entered,  sufficiently 

startled  and  bewildered,  as  it  may  be  supposed,  with  the 
strange  aspect  of  things. 

"Ha — ha — ha !  it's  you,  is  it — it's  you — you  anatomy ! — 
you  plaster!  How  dare  you  mock  me  in  this  horrid  way 
eh?"  shouted  the  maniac;  and,  springing  like  a  lion  from 
his  lair,  he  made  for  the  spot  where  the  confounded 
apothecary  stood,  stupefied  with  terror.  I  verily  believe 
he  would  have  been  destroyed,  torn  to  pieces,  or  cruelly 
maltreated  in  some  way  or  other,  had  I  not  started  and 
thrown  myself  between  the  maniac  and  the  unwitting  ob- 
ject of  his  vengeance,  exclaiming  at  the  same  time,  as  a 
dernier  rcssort,  in  sudden  and  strong  appeal  to  his  fears — 
"Remember!— T !  T 1" 


202  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"I  do — I  do!"  stammered  the  maniac,  stepping  back 
perfectly  aghast.  He  seemed  utterly  petrified,  and  sank 
shivering  down  again  into  his  former  position  at  the  cor- 
ner of  the  bed,  moaning — "Oh  me!  wretched  me!    Away 

— away — away!"     I  then  stepped  to  Mr.  ,  who  had 

not  moved  an  inch,  directed  him  to  retire  instantly,  con- 
duct all  the  females  out  of  the  chambers,  and  return  as 
soon  as  possible  with  two  or  three  inn-porters,  or  any 
other  able-bodied  men  he  could  procure  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment ;  and  I  concluded  by  slipping  the  razor,  un- 
observedly  as  I  thought,  into  his  hands,  and  bidding 
him  remove  it  to  a  place  of  safety.  He  obeyed,  and  I 
found  myself  once  more  alone  with  the  madman. 

"M !  dear  Mr.  M !    I've  got  something  to  say 

to  you — I  have  indeed ;  it's  very,  very  particular."  I 
commenced  approaching  him  slowly,  and  speaking  in  the 
softest  tones  conceivable. 

"But  you've  forgotten  this,  you  fool,  you! — you  have!" 
he  replied  fiercely  approaching  the  dresser-table,  and  sud- 
denly seizing  another  razor — the  fellow  of  the  one  I  had 
got  hold  of  with  such  pains  and  peril — and  which,  alas, 
alas !  had  never  caught  my  eye !  I  gave  myself  up  for 
lost,  fully  expecting  that  I  should  be  murdered,  when  I 
saw  the  bloodthirsty  spirit  with  which  he  clutched  it, 
brandished  it  over  his  head,  and  with  a  smile  of  fiend- 
ish derision,  shook  it  full  before  me!  I  trembled,  how- 
ever, the  next  moment,  for  himself ;  for  he  drew  it  rapidly 
to  and  fro  before  his  throat,  as  though  he  would  give 
the  fatal  gash,  but  he  did  not  touch  the  skin.  He  gnashed 
his  teeth  with  a  kind  of  savage  satisfaction  at  the  dread- 
ful power  with  which  he  was  consciously  armed. 

"Oh,  Mr.  M !  think  of  your  poor  mother  and  sis- 
ters !"  I  exclaimed  in  a  sorrowful  tone,  my  voice  faltering 
with  uncontrollable  agitation.  He  shook  the  razor  again 
before  me  with  an  air  of  defiance,  and  really  "grinned  hor- 
ribly a  ghastly  smile." 

"Now,  suppose  I  choose  to  punish  your  perfidy,  you 
wretch !  and  do  what  you  dread,  eh?"  said  he,  holding  the 
razor  as  if  he  were  going  to  cut  his  throat. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 


203 


"Why,  wouldn't  it  be  nobler  to  forgive  and  forget,  Mr. 

M ?"  I  replied  with  tolerable  firmness,  and  folding 

my  arms  on  my  breast,  anxious  to  appear  quite  at  ease. 

"Too — too— too,  doctor!  Too— too — too — too!  Hal 
by  the  way— what  do  you  say  to  a  razor  hornpipe— eh?— 
Ha,  ha,  ha!  a  novelty  at  least!"  He  began  forthwith  to 
dance  a  few  steps,  leaping  frantically  high,  and  uttering 
at  intervals  a  sudden,  shrill  dissonant  cry,  resembling 
that  used  by  those  who  dance  the  Highland  "fling"  or 
some  other  species  of  Scottish  dance.  I  affected  to  ad- 
mire his  dancing,  even  to  ecstacy,  clapping  my  hands  and 
shouting,  "Bravo,  bravo!  Encore!"  He  seemed  inclined 
to  go  over  it  again,  but  was  too  much  exhausted,  and  sat 
down  panting  on  the  window-seat,  which  was  close  be- 
hind him. 

"You'll  catch  cold,  Mr.  M ,  sitting  in  that  draught 

of  air,  naked  and  perspiring  as  you  are.  Will  you  put 
on  your  clothes?"  said  I  approaching  him. 

"No!"  he  replied  sternly,  and  extended  the  razor  threat- 
eningly. I  fell  back  of  course,  not  knowing  what  to  do, 
nor  choosing  to  risk  either  his  destruction  or  my  own  by 
attempting  any  active  interference ;  for  what  was  to  be 
done  with  a  madman  who  had  an  open  razor  in  his  hand? 

Mr.  ,  the  apothecary,  seemed  to  have  been  gone  an 

age;  and  I  found  even  my  temper  beginning  to  fail  me, 
for  I  was  tired  with  his  tricks,  deadly  dangerous  as  they 
were.  My  attention,  however,  was  soon  riveted  again  on 
the  motions  of  the  maniac.  "Yes— yes,  decidedly  so— 
I'm  too  hot  to  do  it  now — I  am!"  said  he,  wiping  the 
perspiration  from  his  forehead,  and  eyeing  the  razor  in- 
tently. "I  must  get  calm  and  cool— and  then— then  for 
the  sacrifice!  Aha— the  sacrifice!  An  offering— expia- 
tion—even  as  Abraham— ha,  ha,  ha!  But,  by  the  way, 
how  did  Abraham  do  it— that  is,  how  did  he  intend  to 
have  done  it?    Ah,  I  must  ask  my  familiar." 

"A  sacrifice,  Mr.  M ?    Why,  what  do  you  mean?'* 

I  inquired,  attempting  a  laugh— I  say,  attempting— for 
my  blood  trickled  chillily  through  my  veins,  and  my 
heart  seemed  frozen. 


204  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"What  do  I  mean,  eh?  Wretch!  Dolt!  What  do  I 
mean?  Why  a  peace-offermg  to  my  Maker,  for  a  badly- 
spent  life,  to  be  sure !  One  would  think  you  had  never 
heard  of  such  a  thing  as  religion,  you  savage!" 

"I  deny  that  the  sacrifice  would  be  accepted;  and  for 
two  reasons,"  I  replied,  suddenly  recollecting  that  he 
plumed  himself  on  his  casuistry,  and  hoping  to  engage 
him  on  some  new  crochet,  which  might  keep  him  in  pJay 
till  Mr.  returned  with  assistance ;  but  I  was  mis- 
taken ! 

"Well,  well.  Doctor !  let  that  be  for  the  present — I 

can't  resolve  doubts  now — no,  no,"  he  replied  solemnly — 
"  'tis  a  time  for  action for  action — for  action,"  he  con- 
tinued, gradually  elevating  his  voice,  using  vehement 
gesticulations,  and  rising  from  his  seat. 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  I  warmly ;  "but  though  you've  fol- 
lowed closely  enough  the  advice  of  the  Talmudist  in 
shaving  off  your  eyebrows,  as  a  preparatory " 

"Aha!  aha! — What! — have  you  seen  the  Talmud! — 
Have  you  really? — Well,"  he  added,  after  a  doubtful 
pause,  "in  what  do  you  think  I've  failed,  eh?" 

I  need  hardly  say,  that  I  myself  scarcely  knew  what 
led  me  to  utter  the  nonsense  in  question ;  but  I  have  sev- 
eral times  found,  in  cases  of  insanity,  that  suddenly  and 
readily  supplying  a  motive  for  the  patient's  conduct — 
referring  it  to  a  cause,  of  some  sort  or  other,  with  stead- 
fast intrepidity — even  be  the  said  cause  never  so  pre- 
posterously absurd — has  been  attended  with  the  happiest 
efifects,  in  arresting  the  patient's  attention — chiming  in 
with  his  eccentric  fancies,  and  piquing  his  disturbed  fac- 
ulties into  acquiescence  in  what  he  sees  coolly  taken  for 
granted  as  quite  true — a  thing  of  course — mere  matter 
of  fact — by  the  person  he  is  addressing.  I  have  several 
times  recommended  this  little  device  to  those  who  have 
been  intrusted  with  the  care  of  the  insane,  and  have  been 
assured  of  its  success. 

"You  are  very  near  the  mark,  I  own ;  but  it  strikes  me 
that  you  have  shaved  them  ofif  too  equally,  too  uniformly. 
You  ought  to  have  left  some  little  ridges — furrows — hem, 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  205 

hem  ! — to — to — terminate,  or  resemble  the — the  striped 
stick  which  Jacob  held  up  before  the  ewes !" 

"Oh — ay — ay!  Exactly — true!  Strange  oversight!" 
he  replied,  as  if  struck  with  the  truth  of  the  remark,  and 
yet  puzzled  by  vain  attempts  to  corroborate  it  by  his 
own  recollections ;  "I — I  recollect  it  now — but  it  isn't  too 
late  yet — is  it?" 

"I  think  not,"  I  replied,  with  apparent  hesitation, 
hardly  crediting  the  success  of  my  strange  stratagem. 
"To  be  sure,  it  will  require  very  great  delicacy;  but  as 
you've  not  shaved  them  off  very  closely,  I  think  I  can 
manage  it,"  I  continued  doubtfully. 

"Oh,  oh,  oh !"  growled  the  maniac,  while  his  eyes 
flashed  fire  at  me.  "There's  one  sitting  by  me  that  tells 
me  you  are  dealing  falsely  with  me — oh,  lying  villain  !  oh, 
perfidious  wretch!"  At  that  moment  the  door  opened 
gently  behind  me,  and  the  voice  of  Mr. ,  the  apothe- 
cary, whispered  in  a  low  hurried  tone,  "Doctor,  I've  got 
three  of  the  inn-porters  here,  in  the  sitting-room." 
Though  the  whisper  was  almost  inaudible  even  to  me, 
when  uttered  close  to  my  ear,  to  my  utter  amazement 

M had  heard  every  syllable  of  it,  and  understood  it 

too,  as  if  some  officious  minion  of  Satan  himself  had 
quickened  his  ears,  or  conveyed  the  intelligence  to  him. 

"Ah,  ha,  ha! — Ha,  ha,  ha! — fools!  knaves,  harpies! — 
and  what  are  you  and  your  hired  desperadoes  to  me? 
Thus — thus  do  I  outwit  you — thus !"  and,  springing  from 
his  seat,  he  suddenly  drew  up  the  lower  part  of  the  win- 
dow-frame, and  looked  through  it — then  at  the  razor — 
and  again  at  me,  with  one  of  the  most  awful  glances — full 
of  dark  diabolical  meaning,  the  momentary  suggestion, 
surely,  of  the  great  Tempter — that  I  ever  encountered  in 
my  life. 

"Which!  —  which!  —  which!"  he  muttered  fiercely 
through  his  closed  teeth,  while  his  right  foot  rested  on 
the  window-seat,  ready  for  him  to  spring  out,  and  his  eye 
traveled,  as  before,  rapidly  from  the  razor  to  the  win- 
dow. Can  anything  be  conceived  more  palsying  to  the 
beholders?     "Why  did  not  you  and  your  strong  rein- 


206  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

forcement  spring  at  once  upon  him  and  overpower  him?" 
possibly  some  one  is  asking.  What!  and  he  armed  with 
a  naked  razor?  His  head  might  have  been  severed  from 
his  shoulders  before  we  could  have  overmastered  him — 
or  we  might  ourselves — at  least  one  of  us — have  been 
murdered,  or  cruelly  maimed  in  the  attempt.    We  knew 

not  what  to  do  !  M suddenly  withdrew  his  head  from 

the  window  through  which  he  had  been  gazing,  with  a 
shuddering,  horror-stricken  emotion,  and  groaned — "No! 

no!  no!  I  won't — can't — for  there's  T standing  just 

beneath,  his  face  all  blazing  and  waiting  with  outspread 
arms  to  catch  me,"  standing  at  the  same  time,  shading 
his  eyes  with  his  left  hand — when  I  whispered — "Now, 
now  go  up  to  him — secure  him — all  three  spring  on  him 
at  once,  and  disarm  him !"   They  obeyed  me  and  were  in 

the  act  of  rushing  into  the  room,  when  M suddenly 

planted  himself  into  a  posture  of  defiance,  elevated  the 
razor  to  his  throat,  and  almost  howled — "One  step — one 
step  nearer — and  I — I — I — so!"  motioning  as  though  he 
would  draw  it  from  one  ear  to  the  other.  We  all  fell 
back,  horror-struck,  and  in  silence.  What  could  we  do? 
If  we  moved  towards  him,  or  made  use  of  any  threaten- 
ing gestures,  we  should  see  the  floor  in  an  instant  deluged 
with  his  blood.  I  once  more  crossed  my  arms  on  my 
breast,  with  an  air  of  mute  submission. 

"Ha,  ha !"  he  exclaimed  after  a  pause,  evidently  pleased 
with  such  a  demonstration  of  his  power,  "obedient,  how- 
ever!— well — that's  one  merit!  But  still,  what  a  set  of 
cowards — bullies — you  must  all  be! — What! — all  four  of 
you  afraid  of  one  man?"  In  the  course  of  his  frantic  ges- 
ticulations, he  had  drawn  the  razor  so  close  to  his  neck, 
that  its  edge  had  slightly  grazed  the  skin  under  his  left 
ear,  and  a  little  blood  trickled  from  it  over  his  shoulders 
and  breast. 

"Blood ! — blood  ?  What  a  strange  feeling !  How  coldly 
it  fell  on  my  breast! — How  did  I  do  it? — Shall  I — go — on, 
as  I  have  made  a  beginning?"  he  exclaimed,  drawling 
the  words  at  great  length.  He  shuddered,  and — to  my 
unutterable   joy   and    astonishment — deliberately    closed 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 


207 


the  razor,  replaced  it  in  its  case,  put  both  in  the  drawer ; 
and  having  done  all  this,  before  we  ventured  to  approach 
him,  he  fell  at  his  full  length  on  the  floor,  and  began  to 
yell  in  a  manner  that  was  perfectly  frightful ;  but,  in  a  few 
moments,  he  burst  into  tears,  and  cried  and  sobbed  like 
a  child.    We  took  him  up  in  our  arms,  he  groaning,  "Oh ! 
shorn  of  my  strength  !— shorn !  shorn  like  Samson !    Why 
part  with  my  weapon?    The  Philistines  be  upon  me  !"— 
and   laid   him   down   on    the   bed,   where,   after   a   few 
moments,     he     fell     asleep.      When     he     woke     again, 
a    strait    waistcoat     put     all     his     tremendous     strug- 
glings     at     defiance,     though     his     strength     seemed 
increased    in    a    tenfold     degree,    and    prevented    his 
attempting     either     his     own     life     or     that     of     any 
one  near  him.     When  he  found  all  his  writhings  and 
heavings  utterly  useless,  he  gnashed  his  teeth,  the  foam 
issued  from  his  mouth,  and  he  shouted,  "I'll  be  even  with 
you,  you  incarnate  devils!     I  will !— I'll  sufifocate   my- 
self!" and  he  held  his  breath  till  he  grew  black  in  the 
face,  when  he  gave  over  the  attempt.    It  was  found  neces- 
sary to  have  him  strapped  down  to  the  bed;  and  his 
bowlings  were  so  shockingly  loud,  that  we  began  to  think 
of  removing  him,  even  in  that  dreadful  condition,  to  a 
madhouse.     I  ordered  his  head  to  be  shaved  again,  and 
kept  perpetually  covered  with  cloths  soaked  in  evapor- 
ating lotions ;  blisters  to  be  applied  behind  each  ear,  and 
at  the  nape  of  the  neck;  leeches  to  the  temples;  and  the 
appropriate  internal  medicines  in  such  cases;  and  left 
him,  begging  I  might  be  sent  for  instantly  in  the  event 
of  his  getting  worse.*    Oh !  I  shall  never  forget  this  har- 
rowing scene!     My  feelings  were  wound  up  almost  to 
bursting ;  nor  did  they  recover  their  proper  tone  for  many 
a  week.     I  cannot  conceive  that  the  people  whom  the 
New  Testament  speaks  of  as  being  "possessed  of  devils," 

*I  ought  to  have  mentioned,  a  little  way  back,  that,  in 
obedience  to  my  hurried  injunctions  the  ladies  suffered  them- 
selves, almost  famtmg  with  fright,  to  be  conducted  silently  into 
the  adjommg  chambers— and  it  was  well  they  did.  Suppose 
they  had  uttered  any  sudden  shriek,  or  attempted  to  interfere  or 
made  a  disturbance  of  any  kind— what  would  have  become  of 
us  all? 


208'  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

could  have  been  more  dreadful  in  appearance,  or  more 

outrageous  in  their  actions,  than  was  M ;  nor  can  I 

help  suggesting  the  thought,  that,  possibly,  they  were  in 
reality  nothing  more  than  maniacs  of  the  worst  kind. 
And  is  not  a  man  transformed  into  a  devil,  when  his 
reason  is  utterly  overturned  ? 

On  seeing  M the  next  morning,  I  found  he  had 

passed  a  terrible  night — that  the  constraint  of  the  strait 
waistcoat  filled  him  incessantly  with  a  fury  that  was  ab- 
solutely diabolical.  His  tongue  was  dreadfully  lacerated ; 
and  the  whites  of  his  eyes,  with  perpetual  straining,  were 
discolored  with  a  reddish  hue,  like  ferrets'  eyes.  He  was 
truly  a  piteous  spectacle !  One's  heart  ached  to  look  at 
him,  and  think  for  a  moment  of  the  fearful  contrast  he 

formed  to  the  gay  M he  was  only  a  few  days  before, 

the  delight  of  refined  society,  and  the  idol  of  all  his 
friends !  He  lay  in  a  most  precarious  state  for  a  fort- 
night ;  and  though  the  fits  of  outrageous  madness  had 
ceased,  or  become  much  mitigated,  and  interrupted  not 
unfrequently  with  "lucid  intervals,"  as  the  phrase  is,  I 
began  to  be  apprehensive  of  his  sinking  eventually  into 
that  hopeless,  deplorable  condition,  idiocy.  During  one  of 
his  intervals  of  sanity,  when  the  savage  fiend  relaxed  for 
a  moment  the  hold  he  had  taken  of  the  victim's  faculties, 

M said  something  according  with  a  fact  which  it  was 

impossible  for  him  to  have  any  knowledge  of  by  the 
senses,  which  was  to  me  singular  and  inexplicable. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  third 
day,  after  that  on  which  the  scene  above  described  took 

place,  that  M ,  who  was  lying  in  a  state  of  the  utmost 

lassitude  and  exhaustion,  scarcely  able  to  open  his  eyes, 

turned  his  head  slowly  towards  Mr. ,  the  apothecary, 

who  was  sitting  by  his  bedside,  and  whispering  to  him — 
"They  are  preparing  to  bury  that  wretched  fellow  next 
door — hush  !  hush  ! — one  of  the  coffin  trestles  has  fallen — 

hush  !"    Mr. and  the  nurse,  who  had  heard  him,  both 

strained  their  ears  to  listen,  but  could  hear  not  even  a 
mouse  stirring. — "There's  somebody  come  in — a  lady, 
kissing  his  lips  before  he's  screwed  down — Oh!  I  hope 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  209 

she  won't  be  scorch'd — that's  all !"  He  then  turned  away 
his  head,  with  no  appearance  of  emotion,  and  presently- 
fell  asleep.    Through  mere  curiosity,  Mr. looked  at 

his  watch,  and  from  subsequent  inquiry  ascertained  that, 
sure  enough,  about  the  time  when  his  patient  had  spoken, 
they  were  about  burying  his  neighbor;  that  one  of  the 
trestles  did  slip  a  little  aside,  and  the  cofifin,  in  conse- 
quence, was  near  falling;  and  finally,  marvelous  to  tell, 
that  a  lady,  one  of  the  deceased's  relatives,  I  believe,  did 
come   and   kiss   the   corpse,   and    cry   bitterly   over    it! 

Neither  Mr. nor  the  nurse  heard  any  noise  whatever 

during  the  time  of  the  burial  preparations  next  door,  for 
the  people  had  been  earnestly  requested  to  be  as  quiet 
about  them  as  possible,  and  really  made  no  disturbance 
whatever.  By  what  strange  means  he  had  acquired  his 
information — whether  or  not  he  was  indebted  for  some 
portion  of  it  to  the  exquisite  delicacy,  the  morbid  sen- 
sitiveness of  the  organs  of  hearing,  I  cannot  conjecture ; 
but  how  are  we  to  account  for  the  latter  part  of  what  he 
uttered  about  the  lady's  kissing  the  corpse,  &c.? — On  an- 
other occasion,  during  one  of  his  most  placid  moods,  but 
not  in  any  lucid  interval,  he  insisted  on  my  taking  pen, 
ink,  and  paper,  and  turning  amanuensis.  To  quiet  him, 
I  acquiesced,  and  wrote  what  he  dictated ;  and  the  manu- 
script now  lies  before  me,  and  is,  verbatim  et  literatim,  as 
follows : — 

"I,  T M ,  saw — what  saw  I?    A  solemn  silver 

grove — there  were  innumerable  spirits  sleeping  among 
the  branches — (and  it  is  this,  though  unobserved  of  nat- 
uralists, that  makes  the  aspen-tree's  leaves  to  quiver  so 
much — it  is  this,  I  say,  namely,  the  rustling  movements 
of  the  spirits) — and  in  the  midst  of  this  grove  was  a  beau- 
tiful site  for  a  statue,  and  one  there  assuredly  was — but 
what  a  statue !  Transparent,  of  a  stupendous  size, 
through  which — the  sky  was  cloudy  and  troubled — a  ship 
was  seen  sinking  at  sea,  and  the  crew  at  cards ;  but  the 
good  spirit  of  the  storm  saved  them,  for  he  showed  them 
the  key  of  the  universe ;  and  a  shoal  of  sharks,  with  mur- 
derous eyes,  were  disappointed  of  a  meal.     Lo,  man,  be- 


210  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

hold! — another  part  of  this  statue — what  a  one! — has  a 
fissure  in  it ;  it  opens — widens  into  a  parlor,  in  darkness ; 
and  now  shall  be  disclosed  the  horror  of  horrors ;  for  lo ! 
some  one  sitting — easy-chair — fiery  face — fiend — fiend — 
O  God !  O  God !  save  me !"  cried  he.  He  ceased  speak- 
ing, with  a  shudder ;  nor  did  he  resume  the  dictation,  for 
he  seemed  in  a  moment  to  have  forgotten  that  he  had  dic- 
tated at  all. 

I  preserved  the  paper;  and,  gibberish  though  it  is,  I 
consider  it  both  curious  and  highly  characteristic 
throughout.  Judging  from  the  latter  part  of  it,  where  he 
speaks  of  a  "dark  parlor,  with  some  fiery-faced  fiend  sit- 
ting in  an  easy-chair,"  and  coupling  this  with  various 
similar  expressions  and  illusions  which  he  made  during 
his  ravings,  I  felt  convinced  that  his  fancy  was  occupied 
with  some  one  individual  image  of  horror,  which  had 
scared  him  into  madness,  and  now  clung  to  his  disor- 
dered faculties  like  a  fiend.  He  often  talked  about  "spec- 
tres," "spectral";  and  uttered  incessantly  the  words 
"spectre-smitten."  The  nurse  once  asked  him  what 
he  meant  by  these  words.  He  started — grew  dis- 
turbed— his  eye  gleamed  with  affright — and  he 
shook  his  head,  exclaiming,  "Horror!"  A  few 
days  afterwards  he  hired  an  amanuensis,  who,  of 
course,  was  duly  apprised  of  the  sort  of  person  he 
had  to  deal  with ;  and,  after  a  painfully  ludicrous  scene, 

M attempting  to  beat  down  the  man's  terms  from  a 

guinea  and  a  half  a-week,  to  half-a-crown,  he  engaged 
him  for  three  guineas,  he  said,  and  insisted  on  his  tak- 
ing up  his  station  at  the  side  of  the* bed,  in  order  that  he 

might  minute  down  every  word  that  was  uttered.    M 

told  him  that  he  was  going  to  dictate  a  romance ! 

It  would  have  required,  in  truth,  the  "pen  of  a  ready 

writer"  to  keep  pace  with  poor  M 's  utterance;  for 

he  raved  on  at  a  prodigious  rate,  in  a  strain,  it  need  hardly 
be  said,  of  unconnected  absurdities.  Really,  it  was  in- 
conceivable nonsense;  rhapsodical  rantings  in  the  Ma- 
turin  style,  full  of  vaults,  sepulchres,  spectres,  devils, 
magic ;  with  here  and  there  a  thought  of  real  poetry.    It 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  211 

was  piteous  to  peruse  it!  His  amanuensis  found  it  im- 
possible to  keep  up  with  him,  and  therefore  profited  by  a 
hint  from  one  of  us,  and,  instead  of  writing,  merely 
moved  his  pen  rapidly  over  the  paper,  scrawling  all  sorts 

of  ragged  lines  and  figures  to  resemble  writing!     M 

never  asked  him  to  read  it  over,  nor  requested  to  see  it 
himself;  but,  after  about  fifty  pages  were  done,  dictated 
a  title-page — pitched  on  publishers — settled  the  price 
and  number  of  volumes — four! — and  then  exclaimed — 
"Well !— thank  God— that's  off  my  mind  at  last!"  He 
never  mentioned  it  afterwards ;  and  his  brother  com- 
mitted the  whole  to  the  flames  about  a  week  after. 

M had  not,  however,  yet  done  with  his  amanuen- 
sis, but  put  his  services  in  requisition  in  quite  another 
capacity — that  of  reader.  Milton  was  the  book  selected ; 
and,  actually,  they  went  through  very  nearly  nine  books, 

M perpetually    interrupting    him    with    comments, 

sometimes  saying  surpassingly  absurd,  and  occasionally 
very  fine,  forcible  things.  All  this  formed  a  truly  touch- 
ing illustration  of  that  beautiful,  often-quoted  sentiment 
of  Horace — 

Quo  semel,  est  imbuta  recens,  servabit  odorem 
Testa  Diu.  Epist.  Lib.  I  Ep.  2.  69,  70. 

As  there  was  no  prospect  of  his  speedily  recovering 
the  use  of  his  reasoning  faculties,  he  was  removed  to  a 
private  asylum,  where  I  attended  him  regularly  for  more 
than  six  months.  He  was  reduced  to  a  state  of  driveling 
idiocy — complete  fatuity!  Lamentable!  heart-rending! 
Oh !  how  deplorable  to  see  a  man  of  superior  intellect — 
one  whose  services  are  really  wanted  in  society — the  prey 
of  madness ! 

Dr.  Johnson  was  well  known  to  express  a  peculiar  hor- 
ror of  insanity.  "O  God !"  said  he,  "afflict  my  body  with 
what  tortures  thou  wiliest ;  but  spare  my  reason !"  Where 
is  he  that  does  not  join  him  in  uttering  such  prayer? 

It  would  be  beside  my  purpose  here  to  enter  into  ab- 
stract speculations,  or  purely  professional  details,  con- 
cerning insanity;  but  one  or  two  brief  and  simple  re- 


212  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

marks,  the  fruits  of  much  experience  and  consideration, 
may  perhaps  be  pardoned  me. 

It  is  still  a  vexata  qucestio  in  our  profession,  whether 
persons  of  strong  or  weak  minds — whether  the  ignorant 
or  the  highly  cultivated — are  most  frequently  the  sub- 
jects of  insanity.  If  we  are  disposed  to  listen  to  a  gener- 
ally shrewd  and  intelligent  writer  (Dr.  Monro,  in  his 
"Philosophy  of  Human  Nature"),  we  are  to  understand 
that  "children,  and  people  of  weak  minds,  are  never  sub- 
ject to  madness ;  for,"  adds  the  doctor,  "how  can  he  des- 
pair who  cannot  think?"  Though  the  logic  here  is  some- 
what loose  and  leaky,  I  am  disposed  to  agree  with  the 
doctor  in  the  main;  and  I  ground  my  acquiescence — 

First,  On  the  truth  of  Locke's  distinction,  laid  down  in 
his  great  work  (Book  ii.,  c.  ii.,  §§  12  and  13),  where  he 
mentions  the  difference  "between  idiots  and  madmen," 
and  thus  states  the  sum  of  his  observations ; — "In  short, 
herein  seems  to  lie  the  difference  between  idiots  and  mad- 
men, that  madmen  put  wrong  ideas  together,  and  do 
make  wrong  propositions,  but  argue  and  reason  right 
from  them ;  but  idiots  make  very  few  or  no  propositions, 
and  reason  scarce  at  all." 

Secondly,  On  the  corroboration  afforded  to  it  by  my 
own  experience.  I  have  generally  found  that  those  per- 
sons who  are  most  distinguished  for  their  powers  of 
thought  and  reasoning  when  of  sound  mind,  continue  to 
exercise  that  power,  but  incorrectly,  and  be  distinguished 
by  their  exercise  of  that  power  when  of  unsound  mind — 
their  understanding  retaining,  even  after  such  a  shock 
and  revolution  of  its  faculties,  the  bent  and  bias  impressed 
upon  it  beforehand ;  and  I  have  found,  further,  that  it 
has  been  chiefly  those  of  such  character — i.  e.  thinkers — 
that  have  fallen  into  madness ;  and  that  it  is  the  perpet- 
ual straining  and  taxing  of  their  strong  intellects  at  the 
expense  of  their  bodies ;  that  has  brought  them  into  such 
a  calamity.  Suppose,  therefore,  we  say,  in  short,  that 
madness  is  the  fate  of  strong  minds,  or,  at  least,  minds 
many  degrees  removed  from  weak ;  and  idiocy  of  weak, 
imbecile  minds.     This  supposition,  however,  involves  a 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  213 

sorry  sort  of  compliment  to  the  fair  sex;  for  it  is  no- 
torious that  the  annual  majority  of  those  received  into 
lunatic  asylums  are  females. 

I  have  found  imaginative,  fanciful  people,  the  most 
liable  to  attacks  of  insanity ;  and  have  had  under  my  care 
four  such  instances,  or,  at  least  very  nearly,  resembling 
the  one  I  am  now  relating,  in  which  insanity  has  ensued 
from  sudden  fright.  And  it  is  easily  accounted  for.  The 
imagination — the  predominant  faculty — ^is  immediately 
appealed  to ;  and  eminently  lively  and  tenacious  of  im- 
pressions, exerts  its  superior  and  more  practised  powers, 
at  the  expense  of  the  judgment,  or  reason,  which  it  tram- 
ples upon  and  crushes.  There  is  then  nothing  left  in  the 
mind  that  may  make  head  against  this  unnatural  dom- 
inancy ;  and  the  result  is  generally  not  unlike  that  in  the 
present  instance.  As  for  my  general  system  of  treat- 
ment, it  may  all  be  comprised  in  a  word  or  two — acquies- 
cence ;  submission ;  suggestion ;  soothing.    Had  I  pursued 

a  different  plan  with  M ,  what  might  have  been  the 

disastrous  issue ! 

To  return,  however:  The  reader  may  possibly  recol- 
lect seeing  something  like  the  following  expression,  oc- 
curing  in  "The  Broken  Heart," — "A  candle  flickering  and 
expiring  in  its  socket,  which  suddenly  shoots  up  into  an 
instantaneous  brilliance,  and  then  is  utterly  extin- 
guished." I  have  referred  to  it,  merely  because  it  affords 
a  very  apt  illustration — apter  than  any  that  now  suggests 
itself  to  me,  of  what  sometimes  takes  place  in  madness. 
The  roaring  flame  of  insanity  sinks  into  the  sullen  smoul- 
dering embers  of  complete  fatuity,  and  remains  for 
months;  when,  like  that  of  the  candle,  just  alluded  to,  it 
will  instantaneously  gather  up  and  concentrate  its  ex- 
piring energies  into  one  terrific  blaze,  one  final  paroxysm 
of  outrageous  mania ;  and,  lo !  it  has  consumed  itself  ut- 
terly— burnt  itself  out — and  the  patient  is  unexpectedly 
restored  to  reason.  The  experience  of  my  medical  read- 
ers, if  it  have  lain  at  all  in  the  track  of  insanity,  must  have 
presented  such  cases  to  their  notice  not  unfrequently. 
However  metaphysical  ingenuity  may  set  us  speculating 


214  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

about  "the  why  and  wherefore"  of  it,  the  fact  is  unde- 
niable.   It  was  thus  with  Mr.  M .    He  had  sunk  into 

and  deplorable  condition  of  a  simple,  harmless,  melan- 
choly idiot,  and  was  released  from  former  constraint ;  but 
suddenly,  one  morning  while  at  breakfast,  he  sprang  upon 
the  person  who  always  attended  him,  and  had  not  the 
man  been  very  muscular,  and  practised  in  such  matters, 
he  must  have  been  soon  overpowered,  and  perhaps  mur- 
dered. A  long  and  deadly  wrestle  took  place  between 
them.  Thrice  they  threw  each  other;  and  the  keeper 
saw  that  the  madman  several  times  cast  a  longing  eye 
towards  a  knife  which  lay  on  the  breakfast  table,  and  en- 
deavored to  sway  his  antagonist  so  as  to  get  himself 
within  its  reach.  Both  were  getting  exhausted  with  the 
prolonged  struggle ;  and  the  keeper,  really  afraid  for  his 
life,  determined  to  settle  matters  as  soon  as  possible. 
The  instant,  therefore,  that  he  could  get  his  right  arm 

disengaged,  he  hit  poor  M a  dreadful  blow  on  the 

side  of  the  head,  which  felled  him,  and  he  lay  senseless 
on  the  floor,  the  blood  pouring  fast  from  his  ears,  nose, 
and  mouth.  He  was  again  confined  in  a  strait  waist- 
coat, and  conveyed  to  bed,  when,  what  with  exhaustion, 
and  the  effect  of  the  medicines  which  had  been  admin- 
istered, he  fell  into  profound  sleep,  which  continued  all 
day,  and,  with  little  intermission,  through  the  night. 
When  he  awoke  in  the  morning,  lo !  he  was  "in  his  right 
mind!"  His  calm  tranquilized  features,  and  the  sober 
expression  of  his  eyes,  showed  that  the  sun  of  reason  had 
really  once  more  dawned  upon  his  long-benighted  facul- 
ties.   Ay,  he  was 

himself  again. 


I  heard  of  the  good  news  before  I  saw  him ;  and,  on  hast- 
ening to  his  room,  found  it  was  indeed  so ;  his  altered  ap- 
pearance, at  first  sight,  amply  corroborated  it !  How  dif- 
ferent the  mild,  sad  smile  now  beaming  on  his  pallid  fea- 
tures, from  the  vacant  stare,  the  unmeaning  laugh  of 
idiocy,  or  the  fiendish  glare  of  madness !  The  contrast 
was  strong  as  that  between  the  soft  stealing,  expansive 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  215 

twilight,  and  the  burning  blaze  of  noonday.  He  spoke 
in  a  very  feeble,  almost  inarticulate  voice — complained  of 
dreadful  exhaustion — whispered  something  indistinctly 
about  "waking  from  a  long  and  dreary  dream" ;  and  said 
that  he  felt,  as  it  were,  only  half  awake,  or  alive.  All  was 
new,  strange,  startling !  Fearful  of,  taxing  too  much  his 
new-born  powers,  I  feigned  an  excuse,  and  took  my  leave 
— recommended  him  cooling  and  quieting  medicines,  and 
perfect  seclusion  from  visitors.  How  exhilarated  I  felt 
my  own  spirits  all  that  day ! 

He  gradually,  very  gradually,  but  surely,  recovered. 
One  of  the  earliest  indications  of  his  reviving  interest  in 
life, 

And  all  its  busy,  thronging  scenes, 

was  an  abrupt  inquiry  whether  Trinity  term  had  com- 
menced, and  whether  or  not  he  was  now  eligible  to  be 
called  to  the  bar.  He  was  utterly  unconscious  that  three 
terms  and  flitted  over  him  while  he  lay  in  the  gloomy 
wilderness  of  insanity ;  and  when  I  satisfied  him  of  this 
fact,  he  alluded,  with  a  sigh,  to  the  beautiful  thought  of 
one  of  our  old  dramatists,  who,  illustrating  the  uncon- 
scious lapse  of  years  over  "Endymion,"  makes  one  tell 
him — 

And  beheld  the  twig  to  which  thou  laidest  thy  head,  is  now 
become  a  tree! 

It  was  not  till  several  days  after  his  restoration  to  rea- 
son that  I  ventured  to  enter  into  anything  like  detailed 
conversation  with  him,  or  to  make  particular  allusions 
to  his  late  illness ;  and  on  this  occasion  it  was  that  he 
related  to  me  his  rencontre  with  the  fearful  object  which 
had  overturned  his  reason ;  adding,  with  intense  emo- 
tion, that  not  ten  thousand  a-year  should  induce  him  to 
live  in  the  same  chambers  any  more. 

During  the  course  of  his  progress  towards  complete 
recovery,  memory  shot  its  strengthening  rays  farther  and 
farther  back  into  the  inspissated  gloom  in  which  the  long 
interval  of  insanity  had  shrouded  his  mind;  but  it  was 
too  dense,  too  impalpable  and  obscure,  to  be  ever  com- 


216  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

pletely  and  thoroughly  illuminated.  TKe  rays  of  recol- 
lection, however,  settled  distinctly  on  some  of  the  more 
prominent  points ;  and  I  was  several  times  astonished  by 
his  sudden  reference  to  things  which  he  had  said  and 
done  during  the  "very  depth  and  quagmire  of  his  disor- 
der."* He  asked  me  once,  for  instance,  whether  he  had 
not  made  an  attempt  on  his  life,  and  with  a  razor,  and 
how  it  was  that  he  did  not  succeed.  He  had  no  recollec- 
tion, however,  of  the  long  and  deadly  struggle  with  his 
keeper — at  least  he  never  made  the  slightest  allusion  to 
it,  nor,  of  course,  did  any  one  else. 

"I  don't  much  mind  talking  these  horrid  things  over 
(vith  you,  doctor,  for  you  know  all  the  ins  and  outs  of 
the  whole  affair;  but  if  any  of  my  friends  or  relatives 
presume  to  torture  me  with  any  allusions  or  inquiries  of 
this  sort — I'll  fight  them!  they'll  drive  me  mad  again!" 
The  reader  may  suppose  the  hint  was  not  disregarded. 
All  recovered  maniacs  have  a  dread — an  absolute  horror 
— of  any  reference  being  made  to  their  madness,  or  any- 
thing they  have  said  or  done  during  the  course  of  it ;  and 
is  it  not  easily  accounted  for? 

"Did  the  horrible  spectre  which  occasioned  your  ill- 
ness in  the  first  instance,  ever  present  itself  to  you  after- 
wards?" I  once  inquired.  He  paused  and  turned  pale. 
Presently  he  replied,  with  considerable  agitation — "Yes, 
yes — it  scarcely  ever  left  me.  It  has  not  always  pre- 
served its  spectral  consistency,  but  has  entered  into  the 
most  astounding,  the  most  preposterous  combinations 
conceivable,  with  other  objects  and  scenes — all  of  them, 
however,  more  or  less,  of  a  distressing  or  fearful  char- 
acter— many  of  them  terrific !"  I  begged  him,  if  it  were 
not  unpleasant  to  him,  to  give  me  a  specimen  of  them. 

"It  is  certainly  far  from  gratifying  to  trace  scenes  of 
such  shame  and  horror ;  but  I  will  comply  as  far  as  I  am 
able,"  said  he,  rather  gloomily.  "Once  I  saw  him" 
(meaning  the  spectre)  "leading  on  an  army  of  huge 
speckled  and  crested  serpents  against  me;  and  when  they 
came  upon  me — for  I  had  no  power  to  run  away — I  sud- 

*Sir  Thomas  Browne. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  217 

denly  found  myself  in  a  pool  of  stagnant  water,  abso- 
lutely alive  with  slimy,  shapeless  reptiles ;  and,  while  en- 
deavoring to  make  my  way  out,  he  rose  to  the  surface, 
his  face  hissing  in  the  water,  and  blazing  bright  as  ever  1 
Again,  I  thought  I  saw  him  in  single  combat,  by  the 
gates  of  Eden,  with  Satan — and  the  air  thronged  and 
heated  with  swart  faces  looking  on !"  This  was  unques- 
tionably some  dim,  confused  recollection  of  the  Milton 
readings,  in  the  earlier  part  of  his  illness.  "Again,  I 
thought  i  was  in  the  act  of  opening  my  snuflf-box,  when 
he  issued  from  it,  diminutive  at  first,  in  size — but  swell- 
ing soon  into  gigantic  proportions,  and  his  fiery  features 
diffusing  a  light  and  heat  around,  that  absolutely  scorched 
and  blasted !  At  another  time,  I  thought  I  was  gazing 
upwards  on  a  sultry  summer  sky;  and,  in  the  midst  of 
a  luminous  fissure  in  it,  made  by  the  lightning,  I  dis- 
tinguished his  accursed  figure,  with  his  glowing  features 
wearing  an  expression  of  horror,  and  his  limbs  out- 
stretched, as  if  he  had  been  hurled  down  from  some 
height  or  other,  and  was  falling  through  the  sky  towards 
me.  He  came — he  came — flung  himself  into  my  recoil- 
ing arms — and  clung  to  me — burning,  scorching,  wither- 
ing my  soul  within  me !  I  thought,  further,  that  I  was 
all  the  while  the  subject  of  strange,  paradoxical,  contra- 
dictory feelings  towards  him — that  I  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  loved  and  loathed,  feared  and  despised  him  !"* 
He  mentioned  several  other  instances  of  the  confusions 
in  his  "chamber  of  imagery."  I  told  him  of  his  sudden 
exclamation  concerning  Mr.  T 's  burial,  and  its  sin- 
gular corroboration  ;  but  he  either  did  not,  or  affected  not, 
to  recollect  anything  about  it.  He  told  me  he  had  a  full 
and  distinct  recollection  of  being  a  long  time  possessed 
with  the  notion  of  making  himself  a  "sacrifice"  of  some 
sort  or  other,  and  that  he  was  seduced  or  goaded  on  to  do 
so  by  the  spectre,  by  the  most  dazzling  temptations,  and 
under  the  most  appalling  threats — one  of  which  latter 

*A  very  curious  case  has  been  handed  to  me,  corroboratory 
of  this  strange  condition  of  feeling;  but  I  am  not  allowed  to 
make  it  public. 


218  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

was,  that  God  would  plunge  him  into  hell  for  ever,  if  he 
did  not  offer  up  himself — that  if  he  did  so,  he  should  be 
a  sublime  spectacle  to  the  universe,  etc.,  etc. 

"Do  you  recollect  anything  about  dictating  a  novel  or 
a  romance?"  He  started,  as  if  struck  with  some  sudden 
recollection. 

"No — but  I'll  tell  you  what  I  recollect  well — that  the 
spectre  and  I  were  set  to  copy  all  the  tales  and  romances 
that  ever  had  been  written,  in  large,  bold,  round  hand, 
and  then  translate  them  into  Greek  or  Latin  verse !"  He 
smiled,  nay,  even  laughed  at  the  thought,  almost  the  first 
time  he  had  given  way  to  such  emotions  since  his-  re- 
covery. He  added,  that  as  to  the  latter,  the  idea  of  the 
utter  hopelessness  of  ever  getting  through  such  a  stu- 
pendous undertaking  never  once  presented  itself  to  him, 
and  that  he  should  have  gone  on  with  it,  but  that  he  lost 
his  inkstand ! 

"Had  you  ever  a  clear  and  distinct  idea  that  you  had 
lost  the  right  use  of  reason?" 

"Why,  about  that,  to  tell  the  truth,  I've  been  puzzling 
myself  a  good  deal,  and  yet  I  cannot  say  anything  decis- 
ive. I  do  fancy  that,  at  times,  I  had  short,  transient 
glimpses  into  the  real  state  of  things,  but  they  were 
so  evanescent.  I  am  conscious  of  feeling,  at  these  times, 
incessant  fury,  arising  from  a  sense  of  personal  con- 
straint, and  I  longed  once  to  strangle  some  one  who  was 
giving  me  medicine." 

But  one  of  the  most  singular  of  all  is  yet  to  come.  He 
still  persisted — yes,  then — after  his  complete  recovery,  as 
we  supposed,  in  avowing  his  belief  that  we  had  hired  a 
huge  boa  serpent  from  Exeter  'Change  to  come  and  keep 
constant  watch  over  him,  to  constrain  his  movements 
when  he  threatened  to  become  violent;  that  it  lay  con- 
stantly coiled  up  under  his  bed  for  that  purpose ;  that  he 
could  now  and  then  feel  the  motions — the  writhing  un- 
dulating motions  of  its  coils — hear  it  utter  a  sort  of  sigh, 
and  see  it  often  elevate  its  head  over  the  bed,  and  play 
with  its  slippery,  delicate,  forked  tongue,  over  his  face, 
to  soothe  him  to  sleep.    When  poor  M ,  with  a  seri- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  219 

ous,  earnest  air,  assured  me  he  still  believed  all  this,  my 
hopes  of  his  complete  and  final  restoration  to  sanity  were 
dashed  at  once !  How  such  an  absurd — in  short,  I  have 
no  terms  in  which  I  may  adequately  characterize  it — how, 
I  say,  such  an  idea  could  possibly  be  persisted  in,  I  was 
bewildered  in  attempting  to  conceive.  I  frequently 
strove  to  reason  him  out  of  it,  but  in  vain.  To  no  pur- 
pose did  I  burlesque  and  caricature  the  notion  almost  be- 
yond all  bounds ;  it  was  useless  to  remind  him  of  the 
blank  impossibility  of  it;  he  regarded  me  with  such  a 
face  as  I  should  exhibit  to  a  fluent  personage,  quite  in 
earnest  in  demonstrating  to  me  that  the  moon  was  made 
of  green  cheese. 

I  have  once  before  heard  of  a  patient  who,  after  re- 
covering from  an  attack  of  insanity,  retained  one  soli- 
tary crotchet — one  little  stain  or  speck  of  lunacy — about 
which,  and  which  alone,  he  was  mad  to  the  end  of  his 

life.    I  supposed  such  to  be  the  case  with  M .    It  was 

possible — barely  so,  I  thought — that  he  might  entertain 
the  preposterous  notion  about  the  boa,  and  yet  be  sound 
in  the  general  texture  of  his  mind*  I  prayed  God  it 
might ;  I  "hoped  against  hope."  The  last  evening  I  ever 
spent  with  him  was  occupied  with  my  endeavoring,  once 
for  all,  to  disabuse  him  of  the  idea  in  question ;  and,  in 
the  course  of  our  conversation,  he  disclosed  one  or  two 
little  symptoms,  specks  of  lunacy,  which  made  me  leave 
him,  filled  with  disheartening  doubts  as  to  the  proba- 
bility of  a  permanent  recovery. 

My  worst  fears  were  awfully  realized.     In  about  five 

years  from  the  period  above  alluded  to,  M ,  who  had 

got  married,  and  had  enjoyed  excellent  general  health, 
was  spending  the  summer  with  his  family  at  Brussels — 
and  one  night  destroyed  himself — alas !  alas !  destroyed 
himself  in  a  manner  too  terrible  to  mention ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  MARTYR  PHILOSOPHER. 

T  HAS  been  my  lot  to  witness  many  dreadful 
deathbeds.  I  am  not  overstating  the  truth  when 
I  assert,  that  nearly  eight  out  of  every  ten  that 
have  comCi  ;under  my  personal  observation — of 
course,  excluding  children — have  more  or  less  partaken 
of  this  character.  I  know  only  one  way  of  accounting 
for  it,  and  some  may  accuse  me  of  cant  for  adverting  to 
it — men  will  not  live  as  if  they  were  to  die.  They  are 
content  to  let  that  event  come  upon  them  "like  a  thief  in 
the  night."*  They  grapple  with  their  final  foe,  not  merely 
unprepared,  but  absolutely  incapacitated  for  the  struggle, 
and  then  wonder  and  wail  at  their  being  overcome  and 
"trodden  under  foot."  I  have,  in  some  of  the  foregoing 
chapters,  attempted  to  sketch  three  or  four  dreary  scenes 
of  this  description,  my  pencil  trembling  in  my  hand  the 
while;  and  could  I  but  command  colors  dark  enough, 
if  were  yet  in  my  power  to  portray  others  far  more  appal- 
ling than  any  that  have  gone  before — cases  of  those  who 
have  left  life  "clad  in  horror's  hideous  robe" —  "whose 
sun  has  gone  down  at  noon  in  darkness,"  if  I  may  be 
pardoned  for  quoting  the  fearful  language  of  a  very  un- 
fashionable book. 

Now,  however,  for  a  while  at  least  let  the  storm  pass 
away ;  the  accumulated  clouds  of  guilt,  despair,  madness, 
disperse ;  and  the  lightning  of  the  fiercer  passions  cease 
to  shed  its  disastrous  glare  over  our  minds.  Let  us 
rejoice  beneath  the  serene  heavens;  let  us  seek  sunnier 

*One  of  my  patients,  whom  a  long  course  of  profligacy  had 
brought  to  a  painful  and  premature  deathbed,  once  quoted  this 
striking  Scriptural  expression  when  within  less  than  an  hour 
of  his  end,  and  with  a  thrill  of  terror. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  221 

spots — by  turning  to  the  more  peaceful  pages  of  human- 
ity. Let  me  attempt  to  lay  before  the  reader  a  short  ac- 
count of  one  whose  exit  was  eminently  calm,  tranquil, 
and  dignified ;  who  did  not  skulk  into  his  grave  with 
shame  and  fear,  but  laid  down  life  with  honor;  leaving 
behind  him  the  influence  of  his  greatness  and  goodness, 
like  the  evening  sun — who  smiles  sadly  on  the  sweet 
scenes  he  is  quitting,  and  a  holy  lustre  glows  long  on  the 
features  of  nature — 

Quiet,  as  a  nun 
Breathless   with   adoration. 

Even  were  I  disposed,  I  could  not  gratify  the  reader 
with  anything  like  a  fair  sketch  of  the  early  days  of  Mr. 

E .    I  have  often  lamented,  that,  knowing  as  I  did  the 

simplicity  and  frankness  of  his  disposition,  I  did  not 
once  avail  myself  of  several  opportunities  which  fell  in 
my  way  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  leading  par- 
ticulars of  his  life.  Now,  however,  as  is  generally  the 
case,  I  can  but  deplore  my  negligence,  when  remedying 
it  is  impossible.  All  that  I  have  now  in  my  power  to 
record,  are  some  particulars  of  his  latter  days.  Interest- 
ing I  know  they  will  be  considered :  may  they  prove  in- 
structive !  I  hope  the  few  records  I  have  here  preserved, 
will  show  how  a  mind,  long  disciplined  by  philosophy, 
and  strengthened  by  religious  principle,  may  triumph 
over  the  assault  of  evils  and  misfortunes  combined  against 
its  expiring  energies.    It  is  fitting,  I  say,  the  world  should 

hear  how  nobly  E surmounted  such  a  sudden  influx 

of  disasters  as  have  seldom  before  burst  overwhelmingly 
upon  a  deathbed. 

And  should  this  chapter  of  my  Diary  chance  to  be  seen 
by  any  of  his  relatives  and  early  friends,  I  hope  the  re- 
ception it  shall  meet  with  from  the  public,  may  stimulate 
them  to  give  the  world  some  fuller  particulars  of  Mr. 

E 's  valuable,   if   not   very  varied   life.     More   than 

seven  years  have  elapsed  since  his  death ;  and,  as  yet, 
the  only  intimation  the  public  has  had  of  the  event,  has 
been  in  the  dreary  corner  of  the  public  prints  allotted 
to  "Deaths" — and  a  brief  enumeration  in  one  of  the  quar- 


222  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

terly  journals  of  some  of  liis  leading  contributions  to 
science.  The  world  at  large,  however,  scarcely  know 
that  he  ever  lived — or,  at  least,  how  he  lived  or  died.  But 
how  often  is  such  the  fate  of  modest  merit! 

My  first  acquaintance  with  Mr.  E commenced  ac- 
cidentally, not  long  before  his  death,  at  one  of  the  even- 
ing meetings  of  a  learned  society,  of  which  we  were  both 
members.  The  first  glimpse  I  caught  of  him  interested 
me  much,  and  inspired  me  with  a  kind  of  reverence  for 
him.  He  came  into  the  room  within  a  few  minutes  of 
the  chair's  being  taken,  and  walked  quietly  and  slowly, 
with  a  kind  of  a  stooping  gait,  to  one  of  the  benches  near 
the  fireplace,  where  he  sat  down  without  taking  off  his 
greatcoat,  and,  crossing  his  gloved  hands  on  the  knob  of 
a  high  walking-stick,  he  rested  his  chin  on  them,  and  in 
that  attitude  continued  throughout  the  evening.  He 
removed  his  hat  when  the  chairman  made  his  appearance ; 
and  I  never  saw  a  finer  head  in  my  life.  The  crown  was 
quite  bald,  but  the  base  was  fringed  round,  as  it  were, 
with  a  little  soft,  glossy,  silver-hued  hair,  which  in  the 
distance  looked  like  a  faint  halo.  His  forehead  was  of 
noble  proportions ;  and,  in  short,  there  was  an  expression 
of  serene  intelligence  in  his  features,  blended  with  meek- 
ness and  dignity,  which  quite  enchanted  me. 

"Pray,  who  is  that  gentleman?"  I  inquired  of  my  friend 
Dr.  D ,  who  was  sitting  beside  me. 

"Do  you  mean  that  elderly  thin  man,  sitting  near  the 
fireplace,  with  a  greatcoat  on?" — "The  same." — *.'Oh !  it 

is  Mr.  E ,  one  of  the  very  ablest  men  in  the  room, 

though  he  talks  the  least,"  whispered  my  friend;  "and 
a  man  who  comes  nearest  to  my  beau  ideal  of  a  philoso- 
pher, of  any  man  I  ever  knew  or  heard  of  in  the  present 
day." 

"Why,  he  does  not  seem  very  well  known  here,"  said 
I,  observing  that  he  neither  spoke  to,  nor  was  spoken 
to  by  any  of  the  members  present. 

"Ah,  poor  Mr.  E is  breaking  up,  I'm  afraid,  and 

that  very  fast,"  replied  my  friend  with  a  sigh.  "He 
comes  but  seldom  to  our  evening  meetings,  and  is  not 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  223 

ambitious  of  making  many  acquaintances."  I  intimated 
an  eager  desire  to  be  introduced  to  him.  "Oh,  nothing 
easier,"  replied  my  friend ;  "for  I  know  him  more  famil- 
iarly than  any  one  present,  and  he  is,  besides,  simple 
as  a  child  in  his  manners,  even  to  eccentricity,  and  the 
most  amiable  man  in  the  world.  I'll  introduce  you  when 
the  meeting's  over." 

While  we  were  thus  whispering  together,  the  subject 
of  our  conversation  suddenly  rose  from  his  seat,  and, 
with  a  little  trepidation  of  manner,  addressed  a  few  words 
to  the  chair,  in  correction  of  some  assertions  which  he  in- 
terrupted a  member  in  advancing.  It  was  something,  if 
I  recollect  right,  about  the  atomic  theory,  and  was  re- 
ceived with  marked  deference  by  the  president,  and  gen- 
eral "Hear !  hear !"  from  the  members.  He  then  resumed 
his  seat,  in  which  he  was  presently  followed  by  the 
speaker,  whom  he  had  evidently  discomfited ;  his  eyes 
glistened,  and  his  cheeks  were  flushed  with  the  efifort  he 
had  made,  and  he  did  not  rise  again  till  the  conclusion 
of  the  sitting.  We  then  made  our  way  to  him,  and  my 
friend  introduced  me.  He  received  me  politely  and 
frankly.  He  complained,  in  a  weak  voice,  that  the  walk 
thither  had  quite  exhausted  him — that  he  feared  his 
health  was  failing  him,  etc. 

"Why,  Mr.  E ,  you  look  very  well,"  said  my  friend. 

"Ay,  perhaps  I  do ;  but  you  know  how  little  faith  is 
to  be  put  in  the  hale  looks  of  an  old  and  weak  man.  Age 
generally  puts  a  good  face  on  bad  matters,  even  to  the 
last,"  he  added  with  a  smile  and  a  shake  of  the  head. 

"A  sad  night!"  he  exclaimed,  on  hearing  the  wind 
howling  drearily  without,  for  we  were  standing  by  a 
large  window  at  the  northeast  corner  of  the  large  build- 
ing; and  a  March  wind  swept  cruelly  by,  telling  bitter 
things  to  the  old  and  feeble  wlfo  had  to  face  it.  "Allow 
me  to  recommend  that  you  wrap  up  your  neck  and  breast 
well,"  said  I. 

"I  intend  it,  indeed,"  he  replied,  as  he  was  folding  up 
a  large  silk  handkerchief.  "One  must  guard  one's  candle 
with  one's  hand,  or  Death  will  blow  it  out  in  a  moment. 


224  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

That's  the  sort  of  treatment  we  old  people  get  from  him ; 
no  ceremony — he  waits  for  one  at  a  bleak  corner,  and 
puffs  out  one's  expiring  light  with  a  breath ;  and  then 
hastens  on  to  the  more  vigorous  torch  of  youth." 

"Have  you  a  coach?"  inquired  Dr.  D .     "A  coach! 

I  shall  walk  it  in  less  than  twenty  minutes,"  said  Mr. 
E ,  buttoning  his  coat  up  to  the  chin. 

"Allow  me  to  offer  you  both  a  seat  in  mine,"  said  I ; 
"it  is  at  the  door,  and  I  am  driving  towards  your  neigh- 
borhood."   He  and  Dr.  D accepted  the  offer,  and  in 

a  few  minutes'  time  we  entered  and  drove  off.  We  soon 
set  down  the  latter,  who  lived  close  by,  and  then  my  new 
philosophic  friend  and  I  were  left  together.  Our  con- 
versation turned,  for  a  while,  on  the  evening's  discussion 
at  the  society ;  and,  in  a  very  few  words,  remarkably  well 
chosen,  he  pointed  out  what  he  considered  to  have  been 

errors  committed  by  Sir and  Dr. ,  the  principal 

speakers.  I  was  not  more  charmed  by  the  lucidness  of 
his  views,  than  by  the  unaffected  diffidence  with  which 
they  were  expressed. 

"Well,"  said  he,  after  a  little  pause  in  our  conversation, 
"your  carriage  motion  is  mighty  pleasant!  It  seduces 
one  into  a  feeling  of  indolence!  these  delicious,  soft, 
yielding  cushioned  backs  and  seats — they  would  make 
a  man  loath  to  use  his  legs  again!  Yet  I  never  kept  a 
carriage  in  my  life,  though  I  have  often  wanted  one,  and 
could  easily  have  afforded  it  once."  I  asked  him  why? 
He  replied,  it  was  not  because  he  feared  childish  accusa- 
tions of  ostentation,  nor  yet  in  order  to  save  money,  but 
because  he  thought  it  becoming  to  a  rational  being  to 
be  contented  with  the  natural  means  God  had  given  him, 
both  as  to  matter  of  necessity  and  pleasure.  It  was  an 
insult,  he  said,  "to  Nature  while  she  was  in  full  vigor, 
and  had  exhibited  little  or  no  deficiency  in  her  functions 
— to  hurry  to  Art.  For  my  own  part,"  he  continued,  "I 
have  always  found  a  quiet  but  exquisite  satisfaction,  in 
continuing  independent  of  her  assistance,  though  at  the 
cost  of  some  occasional  inconvenience:  it  gives  you  a 
consciousness  of  relying  incessantly  on  Him  who  made 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  225 

you,  and  sustains  you  in  being.  Do  you  recollect  the 
solemn  saying  of  Johnson  to  Garrick,  on  seeing  the  im- 
mense levies  the  latter  had  made  on  the  resources  of  os- 
tentatious, ornamental  art?  'Davie,  Davie,  these  are 
the  things  that  make  a  deathbed  terrible !'  "  I  said  some- 
thing about  Diogenes.  "Ah !"  he  replied  quickly,  "the 
other  extreme.  He  accused  nature  of  superfluity,  redun- 
dancy. A  proper  subordination  of  externals  to  her  use  is 
part  of  her  province ;  else  why  is  she  placed  among  so 
many  materials,  and  with  such  facilities  of  using  them? 
My  principle,  if  such  it  may  be  called,  is,  that  art  may 
minister  to  nature,  but  not  pamper  or  surfeit  her  with 
superfluities. 

"You  would  laugh,  perhaps,  to  come  to  my  house,  and 
see  the  extent  to  which  I  have  carried  my  principles  into 
practice.  I — yes,  I — whose  life  has  been  devoted,  among 
other  lines,  to  the  discovery  of  mechanical  contrivances! 
You,  accustomed,  perhaps,  to  the  elegant  redundancies  of 
these  times,  may  consider  my  house  and  furniture  ab- 
solutely plain  and  naked — a  tree  stript  of  its  leaves, 
where  the  birds  are  left  to  lodge  on  the  bare  branches ! 
But  I  want  little,  and  do  not  'want  that  little  long.' — Stop, 
however,  here  is  my  house !  Come — a  laugh,  you  know, 
is  good  before  bed — will  you  have  it  now?  Come,  see  a 
curiosity — a  Diogenes,  but  no  Cynic !" 

Had  the  reader  seen  the  modesty,  the  cheerfulness,  the 

calmness  of  manner  with  which  Mr.  E ,  from  time  to 

time,  joined  in  the  conversation  of  which  the  above  is 
the  substance,  and  been  aware  of  the  weight  due  to  his 
sentiments,  as  those  of  one  who  had  really  lived  up  to 
them  all  his  life — who  had  earned  a  noble  character  in 
the  philosophical  world — if  he  be  aware  how  often  old 
age  and  pedantry,  grounded  on  a  small  reputation,  are 
blended  in  repulsive  union — he  might  not  consider  the 
trouble  I  have  taken,  thrown  away,  in  recording  this  my 

first  conversation  with  Mr.  E .     He. was,  indeed,  an 

instance  of  "philosophy  teaching  by  example,"  a  sort  of 
character  to  be  sought  out  for  in  life,  as  one  at  whose 
feet  we  may  safely  sit  down  and  learn. 


226  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

I  could  not  accept  of  Mr.  E 's  invitation  that  even- 
ing, as  I  had  a  patient  to  see  a  Httle  farther  on ;  but  I 
promised  him  an  early  call.    All  my  way  home  my  mind 

was  filled  with  the  image  of  E ,  and  partook  of  the 

tranquility  and  pensiveness  of  its  guest. 

I  scarcely  know  how  it  was,  but,  with  all  my  admira- 
tion of  Mr.  E ,  I  suffered  the  month  of  May  to  ap- 
proach its  close  before  I  again  encountered  him.  It  was 
partly  owing  to  a  sudden  increase  of  business,  created  by 
a  raging  scarlet  fever,  and  partly  occasioned  by  illness  in 
my  own  family.  I  often  thought  and  talked,  however,  of 
the  philosopher,  for  that  was  the  name  he  went  by  with 

Dr.  D and  myself.     Mr.  E had  invited  us  both 

to  take  "an  old-fashioned  friendly  cup  of  tea"  with  him ; 
and  accordingly,  about  six  o'clock,  we  found  ourselves 

driving  down  to  his  house.    On  our  way.  Dr.  D told 

me  that  our  friend  had  been  a  widower  nearly  five  years ; 
and  that  the  loss,  somewhat  sudden,  of  his  amiable  and 
accomplished  wife,  had  worked  a  great  change  in  him, 
by  divesting  him  of  nearly  all  interest  in  life  or  its  con- 
cerns. He  pursued  even  his  philosophical  occupations 
with  languor — more  from  a  kind  of  habit  than  inclination. 
Still  he  retained  the  same  evenness  and  cheerfulness 
which  had  distinguished  him  through  life.  But  the  blow 
had  been  struck  which  had  severed  him  from  the  world's 
joys  and  engagements.  He  might  be  compared  to  a 
great  tree  torn  up  by  the  root,  and  laid  prostrate  by  a 
storm,  yet  which  dies  not  all  at  once.  The  sap  is  not  in- 
stantaneously dried  up ;  but  for  weeks,  or  even  months, 
you  may  see  the  smaller  branches  still  shooting  uncon- 
sciously into  short-lived  existence  all  fresh  and  tender 
from  the  womb  of  their  dead  mother ;  and  a  rich  green 
mantle  of  leaves  long  concealing  from  view  the  poor  fal- 
len trunk  beneath.  Such  was  the  pensive  turn  my 
thoughts  had  taken  by  the  time  we  had  reached  Mr. 
E 's  door. 

It  was  a  fine  summer  evening — the  hour  of  calm  ex- 
citement. The  old-fashioned  window-panes  of  the  house 
we  had  stopped  at,  shone  like  small  sheets  of  fire  in  the 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  227 

steady  slanting  rays  of  the  retiring  sun.  It  was  the  first 
house  of  a  respectable  antique-looking  row,  in  the  sub- 
urbs of  London,  which  had  been  built  in  the  days  of 
Henry  the  Eighth.  Three  stately  poplars  stood  sentries 
before  the  gateway, 

"Well,  here  we  are  at  last,  at  Plato's  Porch,  as  I've 

christened  it,"  said  Dr.  D ,  knocking  at  the  door.    On 

entering  the  parlor — a  large  old-fashioned  room,  fur- 
nished with  the  utmost  simplicity  consistent  with  com- 
fort— we  found  Mr.  E sitting  near  the  window  read- 
ing. He  was  in  a  brown  dressing-gown  and  study  cap. 
He  rose  and  welcomed  us  cheerfully.  "I  have  been  look- 
ing into  La  Place,"  said  he,  in  the  first  pause  which  en- 
sued, "and,  a  little  before  your  arrival,  had  flattered  my- 
self that  I  had  detected  some  erroneous  calculations ;  and 
only  look  at  the  quantity  of  evidence  that  was  necessary 
to  convince  me  that  I  was  a  simpleton  by  the  side  of  La 
Place !"  pointing  to  two  or  three  sheets  of  paper  crammed 
with  small  algebraical  characters  in  pencil — a  fearful  ar- 
ray of  symbols — 

l/— 3  a^  D  y_'+9_E=9;  n  X  log.  e 
z 

— and  sines,  co-sines,  series,  etc.,  without  end.  I  had 
the  curiosity  to  take  up  the  volume  in  question  while 
he  was  speaking  to  Dr.  D ,  and  noticed  on  the  fly- 
leaf the  complimentary  autograph   of  the   Marquis   La 

Place,  who  had  sent  his  work  to  Mr.  E .     Tea  was 

presently  brought  in ;  and  as  soon  as  the  plain  old-fash- 
ioned china,  etc.,  had  been  placed  on  the  table  by  the 
man-servant — himself  a  knowing  old  fellow  as  I  ever  saw 

in  my  life — Miss  E ,  the  philosopher's  niece,  made  her 

appearance — an  elegant,  unafifected  girl,  with  the  same 
style  of  features  as  her  uncle. 

"I  can  give  a  shrewd  guess  at  your  thoughts,  Dr. ," 

said  Mr.  E smiling,  as  he  caught  my  eye  following 

the  movements  of  the  man-servant  till  he  left  the  room, 
"You  fancy  my  keeping  a  man-servant  to  wait  at  table 
does  not  tally  very  well  with  what  I  said  the  last  time  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you." 


228  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"Oh,  dear!  I'm  sure  you're  mistaken,  Mr.  E .    I  was 

struck  with  the  singularity  of  his  countenance  and  man- 
ners— those  of  a  staunch  old  family  servant." 

"Ah,  Joseph  is  a  vast  favorite  with  my  uncle !"  said 

Miss  E ,  "I  can  assure  you,  and  fancies  himself  nearly 

as  great  a  man  as  his  master." 

"Why,  as  far  as  the  pratique  of  the  laboratory  is  con- 
cerned, I  doubt  if  his  superior  is  to  be  found  in  London. 
He  knows  it,  and  all  my  ways,  as  well  as  he  knows  the 
palm  of  his  own  hand !  He  has  the  neatest  way  in  the 
world  of  making  hydrogen  gas,  and,  what  is  more,  found 

it  out  himself,"  said  Mr.  E ,  explaining  the  process; 

"and  then  he  is  a  miracle  of  cleanliness  and  care !  He 
has  not  cost  me  ten  shillings  in  breakage  since  I  knew 
him.  He  moves  among  my  brittle  wares  like  a  cat  on  a 
glass  wall." 

"And  then  he  writes  and  reads  for  my  uncle — does  all 
the  minor  work  of  the  laboratory — goes  on  errands — 
waits  at  table — in  short,  he's  invaluable,"  said  Miss 
E . 

"Quite  a  factotum,  I  protest!"  exclaimed  Dr.  D . 


"You'd  lose  your  better  half,  then,  if  he  were  to  die,  I 
suppose,"  said  I  quickly. 

"No !  that  can  happen  but  once,"  replied  Mr.  E ,  al- 
luding to  the  death  of  his  wife.   Conversation  flagged  for 

a  moment.     "You've  forgotten,"  at  length  said   E , 

breaking  the  melancholy  pause,  "the  very  chiefest  of  poor 
Joseph's  accomplishments — What  an  admirable  un- 
wearied nurse  he  is  to  me !"  At  that  moment  Joseph  en- 
tered the  room,  with  a  note  in  his  hand,  which  he  gave 
to  Mr.  E .  I  guessed  where  it  came  from,  for  hap- 
pening, a  few  moments  before,  to  cast  my  eye  to  the 
window,  I  saw  a  footman  walking  up  to  the  door ;  and 
there  was  no  mistaking  the  gorgeous  scarlet  liveries  of 

the  Duke  of .     E ,  after  glancing  over  the  letter, 

begged  us  to  excuse  him  for  a  minute  or  two,  as  the  man 
was  waiting  for  an  answer. 

"You,  of  course,  knew  what  my  uncle  alluded  to,"  said 
Miss  E ,  addressing  Dr.  D in  a  low  tone,  as  soon 


J 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  229 

as  E had  closed  the  door  after  him,  "when  he  spoke 

of   Joseph's    being   a    nurse — don't    you?"      Dr.    D 

nodded.  "My  poor  uncle,"  she  continued,  addressing 
me,  "has  been,  for  nearly  twenty-five  years,  afflicted  with 
a  dreadful  disease  of  the  spine ;  and,  during  all  that  time, 
he  has  suffered  a  perfect  martyrdom  from  it.  He  could 
not  stand  straight  up  if  it  were  to  save  his  life,  and  he  is 
obliged  to  sleep  in  a  bed  of  a  very  curious  description — 
the  joint  contrivance  of  himself  and  Joseph.  He  takes 
nearly  half  an  ounce  of  laudanum  every  night,  at  bed- 
time; without  which,  the  pains,  which  are  always  most 
excruciating  at  night-time,  would  not  suffer  him  to  get 
a  moment's  sleep ! — Oh,  how  often  have  I  seen  him  roll- 
ing about  on  this  carpet  and  hearth-rug — yes,  even  in 
the  presence  of  visitors — in  a  perfect  ecstasy  of  agony, 
and  uttering  the  most  heart-breaking  groans!" 

"And  I  can  add,"  said  Dr.  D ,  "that  he  is  the  most 

perfect  Job — the  most  angelic  sufferer  I  ever  saw!" 

"Indeed,  indeed,  he  is !"  rejoined  Miss  E with  emo- 
tion. "I  can  say  with  perfect  truth,  that  I  never  once 
heard  him  murmur  or  complain  at  his  hard  fate.  When 
I  have  been  expressing  my  sympathies,  during  the  ex- 
tremity of  his  anguish,  he  has  gasped,  'Well,  well,  it 

might  have  been  worse !'  " — Miss  E suddenly  raised 

her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  for  they  were  overflowing. 

"Do  you  see  that  beautiful  little  picture  hanging  over 
the  mantlepiece?"  she  inquired,  after  a  pause,  which  nei- 
ther Dr.  D nor  I  seemed  inclined  to  interrupt — point- 
ing to  an  exquisite  oil-painting  of  the  crucifixion.  "I 
have  seen  my  poor  uncle  lying  down  on  the  floor,  while 
in  the  most  violent  paroxysms  of  pain,  and,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  intently  on  that  picture,  exclaim — 'Thine  were 
greater — thine  were  greater !'  And  then  he  has  presently 
clasped  his  hands  upwards ;  a  smile  has  beamed  upon  his 
pallid,  quivering  features,  and  he  has  told  me  the  pain 
was  abated." 

"I  once  was  present  during  one  of  these  painfully  in- 
teresting scenes,"  said  Dr.  D ,  "and  have  seen  such 

a  heavenly  radiance  on  his  countenance,  as  could  not 


230  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

have  been  occasioned  by  the  mere  sudden  cessation  of 
the  anguish  he  had  been  suffering." 

"Does  not  this  strange  disorder  abate  with  his  in- 
creasing years?"  I  inquired. 

"Alas,  no!"  replied  Miss  E ;  "but  is,  if  possible, 

more  frequent  and  severe  in  its  seizures.  Indeed,  we  all 
think  it  is  wearing  him  out  fast.  But  for  the  unwearied 
services  of  that  faithful  creature,  Joseph,  who  sleeps  in 
the  same  room  with  him,  my  uncle  must  have  died  long 
ago. 

"How  did  this  terrible  disorder  attack  Mr.  E ,  and 

when?"  I  inquired.  I  was  informed  that  he  himself 
originated  the  complaint  with  an  injury  he  sustained 
when  a  very  young  man :  he  was  riding,  one  day,  on 
horse-back,  and  his  horse,  suddenly  rearing  backward, 

Mr.  E 's  back  came  in  violent  contact  with  a  plank, 

projecting  from  behind  a  cart  loaded  with  timber.  He 
was  besides,  however,  subject  to  a  constitutional  feeble- 
ness in  the  spine,  derived  from  the  father  and  grand- 
father. He  had  consulted  almost  every  surgeon  of  emin- 
ence in  England,  and  a  few  on  the  Continent ;  and  spent 
a  little  fortune  among  them — but  all  had  been  in  vain. 

"Really,  you  would  be  quite  surprised.  Doctor ," 

said  Miss  E ,  "to  know  that,  though  such  a  martyr 

to  pain,  and  now  in  his  sixty-fourth  year,  my  uncle  is 
more  active  in  his  habits,  and  regular  in  his  hours,  than 
I  ever  knew  any  one.  He  rises  almost  invariably  at 
four  o'clock  in  summer,  and  at  six  in  winter — and  this 
though  so  helpless,  that,  without  Joseph's  assistance, 
he  could  not  dress  himself." — "Ah !  by  the  way,"  inter- 
rupted Dr.  D ,  "that  is  another  peculiarity  in   Mr. 

E 's  case ;  he  is  subject  to  a  sort  of  a  nightly  paralysis 

of  the  upper  extremities,  from  which  he  does  not  com- 
pletely recover  till  he  has  been  up  for  some  two  or  three 
hours." 

How  little  had  I  thought  of  the  under-current  of  agony 
flowing  incessantly  beneath  the  calm  surface  of  his  cheer- 
ful and  dignified  demeanor!  O  philosophy! — O  Chris- 
tian philosophy ! — I  had  failed  to  detect  any  marks  of  suf- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  231 

fering  in  his  features,  though  I  had  now  had  two  inter- 
views with  him — so  completely,  ever  hitherto,  had  "his 
unconquerable  mind  conquered  the  clay" — as  one  of  our 
old  writers  expresses  it.    If  I  had  admired  and  respected 

him  heretofore,  on  the  ground  of  Dr.  D 's  opinion, 

how  did  I  now  feel  disposed  to  adore  him  1  I  looked  on 
him  as  an  instance  of  long-tried  heroism  and  fortitude, 
almost  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  man.  Such  thoughts 
were  passing  through  my  mind  when  Mr.  E re-en- 
tered the  room.  What  I  had  heard  during  his  absence 
made  me  look  at  him  with  a  tenfold  interest.  I  won- 
dered that  I  had  overlooked  his  stoop — and  the  perma- 
nent print  of  pain  on  his  pallid  cheek.  I  gazed  at  him, 
in  short,  with  feelings  of  sympathy  and  reverence,  akin 
to  those  called  forth  by  a  picture  of  one  of  the  ancient 
martyrs, 

"I'm  sorry  to  have  been  deprived  of  your  company  so 
long,"  said  he;  "but  I  have  had  to  answer  an  invitation, 
and  several  questions  besides,  from — I  daresay  you  know 
whom?"  addressing  Dr.  D . 

"I  can  guess,  on  the  principle  ex  ungue — the  gaudy 
livery  'vaunts  of  royalty' — eh?     Is  it ?" 

"Yes.     He  has  invited  me  to  dine  with  Lord ,  Sir 

,  and  several  other  members  of  the Society,  at 

,  this  day  week,  but  I  have  declined.     At  my  time 

of  life,  I  can't  stand  late  hours  and  excitement.  Besides 
one  must  learn  betimes  to  wean  from  the  world,  or  be 
suddenly  snatched  from  it  screaming  like  a  child,"  said 
Mr.  E ,  with  an  impressive  air. 

"I  believe  you  are  particularly  intimate  with  ;  at 

least  I  have  heard  so.    Are  you?"  inquired  Dr.  D . 

"No.  I  might  possibly  have  been  so,  for has  shown 

great  consideration  towards  me ;  but  I  can  assure  you,  I 
am  the  sought,  rather  than  the  seeker,  and  have  been  all 
my  life." 

"It  is  often  fatal  to  philosophical  independence  to  ap- 
proach too  frequently,  and  too  nearly,  the  magic  circle  of 
the  court,"  said  I. 

"True.    Science  is,  and  should  be,  aspiring.     So  is  the 


232  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

eagle;  but  the  royal  bird  never  approaches  so  near  the 
sun  as  to  be  drowned  in  its  blaze,  Q has  been  noth- 
ing since  he  became  a  courtier."         *         *         *         * 

"What  do  you  think  of  's  pretensions  to  science, 

generally,  and  his  motives  for  seeking  so  anxiously  the 
intimacy  of  the  learned?"  inquired  Dr.  D . 

"Why, ,"  replied  E ,  with  some  hesitation,  "  'tis 

a  wonderful  thing  for  him  to  know  even  a  fiftieth  part 
of  what  he  does.  He  is  popularly  acquainted  with  the 
outlines  of  most  of  the  leading  sciences.  He  went 
through  a  regular  course  of  readings  with  my  admirable 

friend ;  but  he  has  not  the  time  necessary  to  insure 

a  successful  prosecution  of  science.  It  is,  however,  in- 
finitely advantageous  to  science  and  literature,  to  have 
the  willing  and  active  patronage  of  royalty.  I  never  knew 
him  to  exhibit  one  trait  of  overbearing  dogmatism ;  and 
that  is  saying  much  for  one  whom  all  flatter  always.  It 
has  struck  me,  however,  that  he  has  rather  too  anxious 
an  eye  towards  securing  the  character  and  applause  of  a 
Msecenas." 

"Pray,  Mr.  E ,  do  you  recollect  mentioning  to  me 

an  incident  which  occurred  at  a  large  dinner-party  given 

by  ,  where  you  were  present,  and,  when  Dr.  

made  use  of  these  words  to  :  'Does  not  your 

think  it  possible  for  a  man  to  pelt  another  with  potatoes, 
to  provoke  him  to  fling  peaches  in  return  for  want  of 
other  missiles?'  and  the  furious  answer  was ." 

"We  will  drop  that  subject,  if  you  please,"  said  E 

coldly,  at  the  same  time  coloring,  and  giving  my  friend  a 
peculiar  monitory  look. 

"I  know  well,  personally,  that has  done  very  many 

noble  things  in  his  day — most  of  them,  comparatively,  in 
secret ;  and  one  magnificent  action  he  has  performed 
lately  towards  a  man  of  scientific  eminence,  who  has  been 
as  unfortunate  as  he  is  deserving,  which  will  probably 

never  come  to  the  public  ear ;  unless  and  die 

suddenly,"  said  Mr. .    He  had  scarcely  uttered  these 

words  when  he  turned  suddenly  pale,  laid  down  his  tea- 
cup with  a  quivering  hand,  and  slipped  slowly  from  his 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  233 

chair  to  the  floor,  where  he  lay  at  his  full  length,  rolling 
to  and  fro,  with  his  hands  pressing  under  the  lower  part 
of  his  spine — and  all  the  while  uttering  deep  sighs  and 
groans.  The  big  drops  of  perspiration  rolling  from  his 
forehead  down  his  cheeks,  evidenced  the  dreadful  agony 

he  was  enduring.    Dr.  D and  I  both  knelt  down  on 

one  knee  by  his  side,  proffering  our  assistance;  but  he 
entreated  us  to  leave  him  to  himself  for  a  few  moments, 
and  he  should  be  better. 

"Emma!"  he  gasped,  calling  his  niece — who,  sobbing 
bitterly,  was  at  his  side  in  a  moment — "kiss  me — that's  a 
dear  girl — and  go  up  to  bed ;  but  on  your  way,  send  Jos- 
eph here  directly."  She  retired ;  and  in  a  few  moments 
Joseph  entered  hastily,  with  a  broad  leathern  band,  which 
he  drew  round  his  master's  waist  and  buckled  tightly. 
He  then  pressed  with  both  his  hands  for  some  time  upon 
the  immediate  seat  of  the  pain.  Our  situation  was  em- 
barrassing and  distressing — both  of  us  medical  men,  and 
yet  compelled  to  stand  by,  mere  passive  spectators  of 
agonies  we  could  neither  alleviate  nor  remove. 

"Do  you  absolutely  despair  of  discovering  what  the 
precise  nature  of  this  complaint  is?"  I  inquired  in  an 
undertone. 

"Yes — in  common  with  every  one  else  that  has  tried  to 
discover  it.  That  it  is  an  affection  of  the  spinal  chord, 
is  clear ;  but  what  is  the  immediate  existing  cause  of  these 
tremendous  paroxysms,  I  cannot  conjecture,"  replied  Dr. 
D . 

"What  have  been  the  principal  remedies  resorted  to?" 

"Oh,  everything — almost  everything  that  the  wit  of 
man  could  devise — local  and  general  bleedings  to  a  dread- 
ful extent ;  irritations  and  counter  irritations  without  end  ; 
electricity — galvanism — all  the  resources  of  medicine 
and  surgery,  have  been  ransacked  to  no  purpose.     Look 

at  him  !"  whispered  Dr.  D ,  "look — look — do  you  see 

how  his  whole  body  is  drawn  together  in  a  heap,  while 
his  limbs  are  quivering  as  though  they  would  fall  from 
him?  See — see — how  they  are  now  struck  out,  and 
plunging  about,  his  hands  clutching  convulsively  at  the 


234  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

carpet — scarcely  a  trace  of  humanity  in  his  distorted  fea- 
tures— as  if  this  great  and  good  man  were  the  sport  of  a 
demon !" 

"O  gracious  God!  can  we  do  nothing  to  help  him?"  I 
inquired,  suddenly  approaching  him,  almost  stifled  with 

my  emotions.    Mr.  E did  not  seem  conscious  of  our 

approach  ;  but  lay  rather  quieter,  groaning — "Oh — oh — 
oh — that  it  would  please  God  to  dismiss  me  from  my  suf- 
ferings." 

"My  dear,  dear  Mr.  E ,"  exclaimed  Dr.  D ,  ex- 
cessively agitated,  "can  we  do  nothing  for  you?  Can't 
we  be  of  any  service  to  you?" 

"Oh,  none — none — none!"  he  groaned,  in  tones  ex- 
pressive of  utter  hopelessness.  For  more  than  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  did  this  victim  of  disease  continue  writh- 
ing on  the  floor,  and  we  standing  by,  "physicians  of  no 
value!"  The  violence  of  the  paroxysm  abated  at  length, 
and  again  we  stooped,  for  the  purpose  of  raising  him 
and  carrying  him  to  the  sofa;  but  he  motioned  us  ofif, 
exclaiming  so  faintly  as  to  be  almost  inaudible — "No,  no 
thank  you — I  must  not  be  moved  for  this  hour,  and  when 
I  am,  it  must  be  to  bed." — "Then  we  will  bid  you  good 
evening,  and  pray  to  God  you  may  be  better  in  the  morn- 
ing." "Yes — yes  ;  better — better ;  good — good-by,"  he 
muttered  indistinctly. 

"Master's  falling  asleep,  gentlemen,  as  he  always  does 
after  these  fits,"  said  Joseph,  who  had  his  arms  round 
his  suffering  master's  neck.  We,  of  course,  left  imme- 
diately, and  met  Miss  E in  the  passage,  muffled  in 

her  shawl,  and  sobbing  as  if  she  would  break  her  heart. 

Dr.  D told  me,  as  we  were  driving  home,  that, 

about  two  years  ago,  E made  a  week's  stay  with 

him ;  and  that,  on  one  occasion  he  endured  agonies  of 
such  dreadful  intensity  as  nothing  could  abate,  or  in  any 
measure  alleviate,  but  two  doses  of  laudanum  of  nearly 
half  an  ounce  each,  within  half  an  hour  of  each  other ; 
and  that  even  then  he  did  not  sleep  for  more  than  two 
hours.  "When  he  awoke,"  continued  my  friend,  "he  was 
lying  on  the  sofa  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  exhaustion,  the 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  235 

perspiration  running  from  him  like  water.  I  asked  him 
if  he  did  not  sometimes  yield  to  such  thoughts  as  were 
suggested  to  Job  by  his  impetuous  friends — to  'curse 
God  and  die';  to  repine  at  the  long  and  lingering  tor- 
tures he  had  endured  nearly  all  his  life,  for  no  apparent 
crime  of  his  own?  'No,  no,'  he  replied  calmly;  'I've  suf- 
fered too  long  an  apprenticeship  to  pain  for  that !  I  own 
I  was  at  first  a  little  disobedient — a  little  restive — but 
now  I  am  learning  resignation !  Would  not  useless  fret- 
ting serve  to  enhance — to  aggrevate  my  pains?'  'Well!' 
I  exclaimed,  'it  puzzles  my  theology — if  anything  could 

make  me   sceptical .'     E saw   the   train  of   my 

thoughts,  and  interrupted  me,  laying  his  white,  wasted 
hand  on  mine — ^"I  always  strive  to  bear  in  mind  that  I  am 
in  the  hands  of  a  God  as  good  as  great,  and  that  I  am 
not  to  doubt  his  goodness,  because  I  cannot  see  exactly 
how  he  brings  it  about.  Doubtless  there  are  reasons  for 
my  suffering  what  I  do,  which,  though  at  present  incom- 
prehensible to  me,  would  appear  abundantly  satisfactory 

could  I  be  made  acquainted  with  them.    Oh,  Dr.  D , 

what  would  become  of  me,'  said  E solemnly,  'were  I, 

instead  of  the  rich  consolations  of  religion,  to  have  noth- 
ing to  rely  on  but  the  disheartening  speculations  of  in- 
fidelity!— If  in  this  world  only  I  have  hope,'  he  contin- 
ued, looking  steadfastl}'^  upwards,  'I  am  of  all  men  most 
miserable!' — Is  it  not  dangerous  to  know  such  a  man, 
lest  one  should  feel  inclined  to  fall  down  and  worship 
him?"  inquired  my  friend.    Indeed  I  thought  so.    Surely 

E was  a  miracle  of  patience  and  fortitude !  and  how 

he  had  contrived  to  make  his  splendid  advancements  in 
science,  whilst  subject  to  such  almost  unheard-of  tor- 
tures, both  as  to  duration  and  intensity — had  devoted 
himself  so  successfully  to  the  prosecution  of  studies  re- 
quiring habits  of  long,  patient,  profound  abstraction — 
was  to  me  inconceivable. 

How  few  of  us  are  aware  of  what  is  suffered  by  those 
with  whom  we  are  most  intimate!  How  few  know  the 
heavy  counterbalancings  of  popularity  and  eminence — 
the  exquisite  agonies,  whether  physical  or   mental,  in- 


236  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

flicted  by  one  irremovable  "thorn  in  the  flesh !"    Oh !  the 

miseries  of  that  eminence  whose  chief  prerogative  too 

often  is — 

Above  the  vulgar  herd  to  rot  in  state! 

How  Httle  had  I  thought,  while  gazing  in  the  

Rooms  on  this  admirable  man,  first  fascinated  with  the 
placidity  of  his  noble  features,  that  I  looked  at  one  who 
had  equal  claims  to  the  character  of  martyr  and  a  philoso- 
pher !  How  my  own  petty  grievances  dvv^indled  away  in 
comparison  with  those  endured  by  E !  How  con- 
temptible the  pusillanimity  I  had  often  exhibited ! 

And  do  you,  reader,  who,  if  a  man,  are  perhaps  in  the 
habit  of  cursing  and  blaspheming  while  smarting  under 
the  toothache,  or  any  of  those  minor  "ills  that  flesh  is 
heir  to,"  think,  at  such  times,  of  poor,  meek,  suffering 
E ,  and  be  silent! 

I  could  not  dismiss  from  my  mind  the  painful  image  of 

E writhing  on  the  floor,  as  I  have  above  described, 

but  lay  the  greater  part  of  the  night  reflecting  on  the 
probable  nature  of  his  unusual  disorder.  Was  it  any- 
thing of  a  spasmodic  nature?  Would  not  such  attacks 
have  worn  him  out  long  ago?  Was  it  one  of  the  remoter 
effects  of  partial  paralysis?  Was  it  a  preternatural  pres- 
sure on  the  spinal  chord,  occasioned  by  fracture  of  one 
of  the  vertebrae,  or  enlargement  of  the  intervertebral 
ligaments?  Or  was  it  owing  to  a  thickening  of  the  me- 
dulla spinalis  itself? 

Fifty  similar  conjectures  passed  through  my  mind,  ex- 
cited as  well  by  the  singularity  of  the  disease  as  by  sym- 
pathy for  the  sufferer.  Before  I  fell  asleep,  I  resolved  to 
call  upon  him  during  the  next  day,  and  inquire  carefully 
into  the  nature  of  the  symptoms,  in  the  forlorn  hope  of 
hitting  on  some  means  of  mitigating  his  sufferings. 

By  twelve  o'clock  at  noon  I  was  set  down  again  at  his 
door.    A  maid-servant  answered  my  summons,  and  told 

me  that  Mr.  E and  Joseph  were  busily  engaged  in 

the  "Labbory !"  She  took  in  my  card  to  him,  and  returned 
with  her  master's  compliments,  and  he  would  thank  me 
to  step  in.     I  followed  the  girl  to  the  laboratory.     On 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  237 

Opening  the  door,  I  saw  E and  his  trusty  work-fel- 
low, Joseph,  busily  engaged  in  fusing  some  species  of 
metal.  The  former  was  dressed  as  on  the  preceding 
evening,  with  the  addition  of  a  long  black  apron — looked 
heated  and  flushed  with  exercise ;  and,  with  his  stooping 
gait,  was  holding  some  small  implement  over  the  fur- 
nace, while  Joseph,  on  his  knees,  was  puffing  away  at  the 
fire  with  a  small  pair  of  bellows.     To  anticipate  for  a 

moment.     How  little  did  E or  I  imagine,  that  this 

was  very  nearly  the  last  time  of  his  ever  again  entering 
the  scene  of  his  long  and  useful  scientific  labors. 

I  was  utterly  astonished  to  see  one  whose  sufferings 
over-night  had  been  so  dreadful,  quietly  pursuing  his  avo- 
cations in  the  morning,  as  though  nothing  had  happened 
to  him ! 

"Excuse  my  shaking  hands  with  you  for  the  present, 

Doctor,"  said  E ,  looking  at  me  through  a  huge  pair 

of  tortoise-shell  spectacles,  "for  both  hands  are  engaged, 

you  see.     My  friend.  Dr.  ,  has  just  sent  me  a  piece 

of  platina,  and  you  see  I'm  already  playing  pranks  with 
it !  Really,  I'm  as  eager  to  spoil  a  plaything,  to  see  what 
my  rattle's  made  of,  as  any  philosophical  child  in  the 
kingdom !  Here  I  am  analyzing,  dissolving,  transmuting 
and  so  on.  But  I've  really  an  important  end  in  view  here, 
trying  a  new  combination  of  metal,  and  Dr.  is  anx- 
ious to  know  if  the  result  of  my  process  corresponds  with 
his. — Now,  now,  Joseph,"  said  E ,  breaking  off  sud- 
denly, "it  is  ready ;  bring  the "  At  this  critical  in- 
stant, by  some  unlucky  accident,  poor  Joseph  suddenly 
overthrew  the  whole  apparatus — and  the  compounds, 
ashes,  fragments,  etc.,  were  spilled  on  the  floor!  Really 
I  quite  lost  my  own  temper  with  thinking  of  the  vexa- 
tious disappointment  it  would  be  to  E .  Not  so,  how- 
ever, with  him. 

"Oh,  dear — dear,  dear  me !  Well,  here's  an  end  of  our 
day's  work  before  we  thought  for  it !    How  did  you  do  it, 

Joseph,  eh?"  said  E ,  with  an  air  of  chagrin,  but  with 

perfect  mildness  of  tone.  What  a  ludicrous  contrast 
between  the  philosopher  and  his  assistant!     The  latter. 


238  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

an  obese  little  fellow,  with  a  droll  cast  of  one  eye,  was 
quite  red  in  the  face,  and,  wringing  his  hands,  exclaimed 
— "O  Lord — O  Lord — O  Lord!  what  could  I  have  been 
doing,  master?" 

"Why,  that's  surely  your  concern  more  than  mine,"  re- 
plied E ,  smiling  at  me.     "Come,  come,  it  can't  be 

helped — you've  done  yourself  more  harm  than  me — by 

giving  Dr.  such  a  specimen  of  your  awkwardness 

as  I  have  not  seen  for  many  a  month.   See  you  set  things 

to  rights  as  soon  as  possible,"  said  E ,  calmly  putting 

away  his  spectacles, 

"Well,  Dr. ,  what  do  you  think  of  my  little  work- 
shop?" he  continued,  addressing  me,  who  still  stood  with 
my  hat  and  gloves  on — surprised  and  delighted  to  see 
that  his  temper  had  stood  this  trial,  and  that  such  a  pro- 
voking contrc-tcmps  had  really  not  at  all  ruffled  him.  From 
the  position  in  which  he  stood,  the  light  fell  strongly  on 
his  face,  and  I  saw  his  features  more  distinctly  than 
heretofore.  I  noticed  that  sure  index  of  a  thinking  coun- 
tenance— three  strong  perpendicular  marks,  or  folds,  be- 
tween the  eyebrows,  at  right  angles  with  the  deep  wrin- 
kles that  furrowed  his  forehead,  and  then  the  "untroubled 
lustre"  of  his  cold,  clear,  full  blue  eyes,  rich  and  serene 
as  that 

through  whose  clear  medium  the  great  sun 

Loveth  to  shoot  his  beams,  all  bright'ning,  all  turning  to  gold. 

Reader,  when  you  see  a  face  of  this  stamp,  so  marked, 
and  with  such  eyes  and  forehead,  rest  assured  you  are 
looking  at  a  gifted,  if  not  an  extraordinary  man. 

The  lower  features  were  somewhat  shrunk  and  sallow, 
as  well  they  might,  if  only  from  a  thousand  hours  of 
agony,  setting  aside  the  constant  wearing  of  his  "ever- 
waking  mind";  yet  a  smile  of  cheerfulness,  call  it  rather 
resignation,  irradiated  his  pale  countenance,  like  twi- 
light on  a  sepulchre.  He  showed  me  round  his  labora- 
tory, which  was  kept  in  the  most  exemplary  cleanliness 
and  order;  and  then,  opening  a  door,  we  entered  the 
"sanctum  sanctorum" — his  study.     It  had  not  more,   I 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  239 

should  think,  than  five  or  six  hundred  books ;  but  all  of 
them — in  plain  substantial  bindings — had  manifestly  seen 
good  service.  Immediately  beneath  the  w^indow  stood 
several  portions  of  a  splendid  astronomical  apparatus — 
a  very  large  telescope,  in  exquisite  order — a  recently  in- 
vented instrument  for  calculating  the  parallaxes  of  the 
fixed  stars — a  chronometer  of  his  own  construction,  etc. 

"Do  you  see  this  piece  of  furniture?"  he  inquired,  di- 
recting my  attention  to  a  sort  of  sideless  sofa,  or  broad 
inclined  plane,  stuffed,  the  extremity  turned  up,  to  rest 
the  feet  against — and  being  at  an  angle  of  about  forty- 
five  degrees  with  the  floor.  "Ah !  could  that  thing  speak, 
it  might  tell  a  tale  of  my  tortures,  such  as  no  living  be- 
ing may!  For,  when  I  feel  my  daily  paroxysms  com- 
ing on  me,  if  I  am  anywhere  near  my  study,  I  lay  my 
wearied  limbs  here,  and  continue  till  I  find  relief!"  This 
put  conversation  into  the  very  train  I  wished.  I  begged 
him  to  favor  me  with  a  description  of  his  disease ;  and 
he  sat  down  and  complied.  I  recollect  him  comparing 
the  pain  to  that  which  might  be  supposed  to  follow  the 
incessant  stinging  of  a  wasp  at  the  spinal  marrow — sud- 
den lancinating,  accompanied  by  quivering  sensations 
throughout  the  whole  nervous  system — followed  by  a 
strange  sense  of  numbness.  He  said  that  at  other  times 
it  was  as  though  some  one  were  in  the  act  of  drilling  a 
hole  through  his  back-bone,  and  piercing  the  marrow ! 
Sometimes,  during  the  moments  of  his  most  ecstatic 
agonies,  he  felt  as  though  his  back-bone  were  rent  asun- 
der all  the  way  up.  The  pain  was,  on  the  whole,  local — 
confined  to  the  first  of  the  lumbar  vertebrae;  but  occa- 
sionally fluctuating  between  them  and  the  dorsal. 

When  he  had  finished  the  dreary  details  of  his  dis- 
ease, I  was  obliged  to  acknowledge,  with  a  sigh,  that 
nothing  suggested  itself  to  me  as  a  remedy,  but  what  I 

understood  from  Dr.  D had  been  tried  over  and  over, 

and  over  again.  "You  are  right,"  he  replied  sorrowfully. 
"Dreadful  as  are  my  sufferings,  the  bare  thought  of  un- 
dergoing more  medical  or  surgical  treatment  makes  me 
shudder.    My  back  is  already  frightfully  disfigured  with 


240  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

the  searings  of  caustic,  seton-marks,  cupping,  and  blister- 
ing; and  I  hope  God  will  give  me  patience  to  wait  till 
these  perpetual  knockings,  as  it  were,  shall  have  at 
length  battered  down  this  frail  structure." 

"Mr.  E ,  you  rival  some  of  the  old  martyrs!"  I 

faltered,  grasping  his  hand  as  we  rose  to  leave  the  study. 

"In  point  of  bodily  suffering,  I  may ;  but  their  holiness  1 
Those  who  are  put  into  the  keenest  parts — the  very  heart 
of  the  'fiery  furnace' — will  come  out  most  refined  at 
last!" 

"Well,  you  may  be  earning  a  glorious  reward  here- 
after, for  your  constancy " 

"Or  I  may  be  merely  smarting  for  the  sins  of  my  fore- 
fathers !"  exclaimed  E mournfully. 

Monday,  July  18 — .  Having  been  summoned  to  a  pa- 
tient in  the  neighborhood  of  E ,  I  took  that  oppor- 
tunity of  calling  upon  him  on  my  return.  It  was  about 
nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  I  found  the  philosopher 
sitting  pensively  in  the  parlor  alone ;  for  his  niece,  I 
learned,  had  retired  early,  owing  to  indisposition.  A  pe- 
culiar sinumbra  lamp,  of  his  own  contrivance,  stood  on 
the  table,  which  was  strewn  with  books,  pamphlets,  and 
papers.    He  received  me  with  his  usual  gentle  affability. 

"I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but  I  feel  in  a  singular  mood 
of  mind  to-night,"  said  he ;  "I  ought  to  say  rather  many 
moods ;  sometimes  so  suddenly  and  strongly  excited  as 
to  lose  the  control  over  my  emotions — at  others  sinking 
into  the  depths  of  despondency.  I've  been  trying  for 
these  two  hours  to  glance  over  this  'New  View  of  the 
Neptunian  Theory,'  "  pointing  to  an  open  book  on  the 

table,  "which has  sent  me,  to  review  for  him  in  the 

;  but  'tis  useless;  I  cannot  command  my  thoughts." 

I  felt  his  pulse;  it  was  one  of  the  most  irregular  I  had 
ever  known.  "I  know  what  you  suspect,"  said  he,  ob- 
serving my  eyes  fixed  with  a  puzzled  air  on  my  watch, 
and  my  finger  at  his  wrist,  for  several  minutes ;  "some 
organic  mischief  at  the  heart.  Several  of  your  fraternity 
have  latterly  comforted  me  with  assurances  to  that  ef- 
fect."   I  assured  him  I  did  not  apprehend  anything  of  the 


r:^'^-^ 


'A'A)\ 


St  OR}'    OF    A      WOCNDBD     OFFICER 


1^. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  241 

kind,  but  merely  that  his  circulation  was  a  little  dis- 
turbed by  recent  excitement. 

"True — true,"  he  replied,  "I  am  a  little  flustered,  as 
the  phrase  is " 

"Oh! — here's  the  secret,  I  suppose?"  said  I,  reaching 
to  a  periodical  publication  of  the  month  lying  on  the 
rable,  and  in  which  I  had,  a  few  days  ago,  read  a  some- 
what virulent  attack  on  him.  "You're  very  rudely  han- 
dled here,  I  think?"  said  I. 

"What!  do  you  think  that  has  discomposed  me?"  he 
inquired  with  a  smile.  "No,  no — I'm  past  feeling  these 
things  long  ago!  Abuse — mere  personality — now  excites 
in  me  no  emotion  of  any  kind !" 

"Why,  Mr.  E ,  surely  you  are  not  indifferent  to  the 

opinion  of  the  public,  which  may  be  misled  by  such  things 
as  these,  if  suffered  to  go  unanswered?" 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  that.  If  I've  done  anything  good 
in  my  time,  as  I  have  honestly  tried  to  do,  sensible  people 
won't  believe  me  an  impostor,  at  any  man's  bidding. 
Those  who  would  be  so  influenced,  are  hardly  worth  un- 
deceiving." 

*  *  "There's  a  good  deal  of  acuteness  in  the  paper; 
and,  in  one  particular,  the  reviewer  has  fairly  caught  me 
tripping.  He  may  laugh  at  me  as  much  as  he  pleases ; 
but  "why  go  about  to  put  himself  in  a  passion?  The  sub- 
ject did  not  require  it.  But  if  he  is  in  a  passion,  should 
I  not  be  foolish  to  be  in  one  too? — Passion  serves  only 
to  put  out  truth ;  and  no  one  would  indulge  it  that  had 
truth  only  in  view.  *  *  The  real  occasion  of  my  ner- 
vousness," he  continued,  "is  far  different  from  what  you 
have  supposed — a  little  incident  which  occurred  only  this 
evening;  and  I  will  tell  it  you. 

"My  niece,  feeling  poorly  with  a  cold,  retired  to  bed 
as  soon  as  she  had  done  tea ;  and,  after  sitting  here  about 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  I  took  one  of  the  candles  and  walked 
to  the  laboratory,  to  see  whether  all  was  right — as  is  my 
custom  every  evening.  On  opening  the  door,  to  my  very 
great  amazement,  I  saw  a  stranger  in  it ;  a  gentleman  in 
dark-colored  clothes,  holding  a  dim  taper  in  one  hand, 


243  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

and  engaged  in  going  round  the  room,  apparently  putting 
all  my  instruments  in  order.  I  stood  at  the  door  almost 
petrified,  watching  his  movements  without  thinking  of 
interrupting  them,  for  a  sudden  feeling  of  something  like 
awe  crept  over  me.  He  made  no  noise  whatever,  and 
did  not  seem  aware  that  any  one  was  looking  at  him — 
or  if  he  was,  he  did  not  seem  disposed  to  notice  the  inter- 
ruption. I  saw  him  as  clearly,  and  what  he  was  doing, 
as  I  now  see  you  playing  with  your  gloves ;  he  was  en- 
gaged leisurely  putting  away  all  my  loose  implements ; 
shutting  boxes,  cases,  and  cupboards,  with  the  accuracy 
of  one  who  was  perfectly  well  acquainted  with  his  work. 
Havingthus  disposed  of  all  the  instruments  and  apparatus 
which  had  been  used  to-day — and  we  have  had  very 
many  more  than  usual  out — he  opened  the  inner  door 
leading  to  the  study,  and  entered — I  following  in  mute 
astonishment.  He  went  to  work  the  same  way  in  the 
study ;  shutting  up  several  volumes  that  lay  open  on  the 
table,  and  carefully  replacing  them  in  their  proper  places 
on  the  shelves. 

"Having  cleared  away  these,  he  approached  the  as- 
tionomical  apparatus  near  the  window,  put  the  cap  on 
the  object-end  of  the  telescope,  pushed  in  the  joints  all 
noiselessly,  closed  up  in  its  case  my  new  chronometer, 
and  then  returned  to  the  table  where  my  desk  lay,  took 
up  the  inkstand,  poured  all  the  ink  into  the  fireplace, 
flung  all  the  pens  under  the  grate,  and  then  shut  the 
desk,  locked  it,  and  laid  the  key  on  the  top  of  it.  When 
he  had  done  all  this,  he  walked  towards  the  wall,  and 
turned  slowly  towards  me,  looked  me  full  in  the  face,  and 
shook  his  head  mournfully.  The  taper  he  held  in  his 
hand  slowly  expired ;  and  the  spectre,  if  such  it  were,  dis- 
appeared. The  strangest  part  of  the  story  is  yet  to  fol- 
low. The  pale,  fixed  features  seemed  perfectly  familiar 
to  me — they  were  those  which  I  had  often  gazed  at,  in  a 
portrait  of  Mr.  Boyle,  prefixed  to  my  quarto  copy  of  his 
Treatise  of  Atmospheric  Air.  As  soon  as  I  had  a  little 
recovered  my  self-possession,  I  took  down  the  work  in 
question,  and  examined  the  portrait.    I  was  right — I  can- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  243 

not  account  for  my  not  having  spoken  to  the  figure  or 
gone  close  up  to  it.  I  think  I  could  have  done  either,  as 
far  as  courage  went.  My  prevailing  idea  was,  that  a  sin- 
gle word  would  have  dissolved  the  charm,  and  my 
curiosity  prompted  me  to  see  it  out.  I  returned  to  the 
parlor,  and  rang  the  bell  for  Joseph. 

"  'Joseph,'  said  I,  'have  you  set  things  to  rights  in 
the  laboratory  and  study  to-night?' — 'Yes,  master,'  he  re- 
plied, with  surprise  in  his  manner;  'I  finished  it  before 
tea-time,  and  set  things  in  particular  good  order;  I  gave 
both  the  rooms  a  right  good  cleaning  out;  I'm  sure 
there's  not  a  very  pin  in  its  wrong  place.' 

"  'What  made  you  fling  the  pens  and  ink  in  the  fire- 
place and  under  the  grate?' 

"  'Because  I  thought  they  were  of  no  use — the  pens 
worn  to  stumps,  and  the  ink  thick  and  clotted — too  much 
gum  in  it.'  He  was  evidently  astonished  at  being  asked 
such  questions,  and  was  going  to  explain  further,  when  I 
said  simply,  'That  will  do,'  and  he  retired.  Now,  what 
am  I  to  think  of  all  this?  If  it  were  a  mere  ocular  spec- 
trum, clothed  with  its  functions  from  my  own  excited 
fancy,  there  was  yet  a  unity  of  purpose  in  its  doings  that 
is  extraordinary !     Something  very  much  like  'shutting 

up  the  shop' — eh?"  inquired  E with  a  melancholy 

smile. 

"  'Tis  touching — very !  I  never  heard  of  a  more  sin- 
gular incident,"  I  replied  abstractly,  without  removing 
my  eyes  from  the  fire ;  for  my  reading  of  the  occurrence 
was  a  sudden  and  strong  conviction,  that,  ghost  or  no 

ghost,  E had  toiled  his  last  in  the  behalf  of  science — 

that  he  would  never  again  have  occasion  to  use  his  philo- 
sophical machinery!  This  melancholy  presentiment  in- 
vested E ,  and  all  he  said  or  did,  with  tenfold  inter- 
est in  my  eyes.  "Don't  suppose,  doctor,  that  I  am  weak 
enough  to  be  seriously  disturbed  by  the  occurrence  I 
have  just  been  mentioning.  Whether  or  not  it  really 
portends  my  approaching  death,  I  know  not.  Though  I 
am  not  presumptuous  enough  to  suppose  myself  so  im- 
portant as  to  warrant  any  special  interference  of  Provi- 


244  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

dence  on  my  behalf,  yet  I  cannot  help  thinking-  I  am  to 
look  on  this  as  a  warning — a  solemn  premonition — that  I 
may  'set  my  house  in  order,  and  die.'  " 

Our  conversation  during  the  remainder  of  the  inter- 
view, turned  on  the  topic  suggested  by  the  affecting  inci- 
dent just  related.  I  listened  to  all  he  uttered  as  to  the 
words  of  a  doomed — a  dying  man!  What  E ad- 
vanced on  this  difficult  and  interesting  subject,  was 
marked  not  less  by  sound  philosophy  than  unfeigned 
piety.  He  ended  with  avowing  his  belief,  that  the  Om- 
nipotent Being,  who  formed  both  the  body  and  the  soul, 
and  willed  them  to  exist  unitedly,  could  surely,  neverthe- 
less, if  he  saw  good,  cause  the  one  to  exist  sepa- 
rately from  the  other,  either  by  endowing  it  with 
new  properties  for  that  special  purpose,  or  by 
enabling  it  to  exercise,  in  its  disembodied  state, 
those  powers  which  continued  latent  in  it  during  its 
connection  with  the  body.  Did  it  follow,  he  asked,  that 
neither  body  nor  soul  possessed  any  other  qualities  than 
those  which  were  necessary  to  enable  them  to  exist  to- 
gether? Why  should  the  soul  be  incapable  of  a  sub- 
stantially distinct  personal  existence?  Where  the  im- 
possibility of  its  being  made  visible  to  organs  of  sense? 
Has  the  Almighty  no  means  of  bringing  this  to  pass?  Are 
there  no  latent  properties  in  the  organs  of  vision — no 
subtle  sympathies  with  immaterial  substances — which 
are  yet  undiscovered,  and  even  undiscoverable?  Surely 
this  may  be  the  case — though  how,  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  conjecture.  He  saw  no  bad  philosophy,  he  said, 
in  this ;  and  he  who  decided  the  question  in  the  negative, 
before  he  had  brought  forward  some  evidence  of  its 
moral  or  physical  impossibility,  was  guilty  of  most  pre- 
sumptuous dogmatism. 

This  is  the  substance  of  his  opinions ;  but,  alas !  I  lack 
the  chaste,  nervous,  philosophical  eloquence  in  which 
they  were  clothed.  A  distinguished  living  character  said 
of  E ,  that  he  was  the  most  fascinating  talker  on  ab- 
struse subjects  he  ever  heard.  I  could  have  stayed  all 
night  listening  to  him.     In  fact,  I  fear  I  did  trespass  on 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  245 

his  politeness  even  to  inconvenience.  I  stayed  and  par- 
took of  his  supper — simple  frugal  fare — consisting  of 
roast  potatoes  and  two  tumblers  of  new  milk.  I  left 
about  eleven ;  my  mind  occupied  with  but  one  wish  all 

the  way  home — that  I  had  known  E intimately  for  as 

many  years  as  hours ! 

Two  days  afterwards,  the  following  hurried  note  was 

put  into  my  hands  from  my  friend  Dr.  D ;  "My  dear 

,  I  am  sure  you  will  be  as  much  afflicted  as  I  was, 

at  hearing  that  our  inestimable  friend,  Mr,  E ,  had  a 

sudden  stroke  of  the  palsy  this  afternoon  about  two 
o'clock,  from  which  I  very  much  fear  he  may  never  re- 
cover ;  for  this,  added  to  his  advanced  age,  and  the  dread- 
ful chronic  complaint  under  which  he  labors,  is  surely 
sufficient  to  shatter  the  small  remains  of  his  strength.     I 

need  hardly  say  that  all  is  in  confusion  at  .     I  am 

going  down  there  to-night,  and  shall  be  happy  to  drive 
you  down  also,  if  you  will  be  at  my  house  by  seven. 
Yours,  etc." — I  was  grieved  and  agitated,  but  in  nowise 
surprised  at  this  intelligence.  What  passed  the  last  time 
I  saw  him,  prepared  me  for  something  of  this  kind. 

On  arriving  in  the  evening,  we  were  shown  into  the 

parlor,  where  sat  Miss  E ,  in  a  paroxysm  of  hysterical 

weeping,  which  had  forced  her,  a  few  moments  before, 
to  leave  her  uncle's  sick-room.  It  was  some  time  before 
we  could  calm  her  agitated  spirits,  or  get  her  to  give  us 
anything  like  a  connected  account  of  her  uncle's  sudden 
illness.  "Oh,  these  will  tell  you  all!"  said  she  sobbing, 
and  taking  two  letters  from  her  bosom,  one  of  which  bore 
a  black  seal ;  "it  is  these  cruel  letters  that  have  broken 
his  heart!  Both  came  by  the  same  post  this  morning!" 
She  withdrew,  promising  to  send  for  us  when  all  was 
ready,  and  we  hastily  opened  the  two  letters  she  had  left. 

What  will   the   reader  suppose  were   the   two   heavy 

strokes  dealt  at  once  upon  the  head  of  Mr.  E by  an 

inscrutable  Providence?  The  letter  I  opened  conveyed 
the  intelligence  of  the  sudden  death,  in  childbed,  of  Mrs. 
,  his  only  daughter,  to  whom  he  had  been  most  pas- 
sionately attached.     The  letter  Dr.   D held   in  his 


246  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

hand,  disclosed  an  instance  of  almost  unparalleled  per- 
fidy and  ingratitude.     I  shall  here  state  what  I  learned 

afterwards ;  that,  many  years  ago,  Mr.  E had  taken  a 

poor  lad  from  one  of  the  parish  schools,  pleased  with  his 
quickness  and  obedience,  and  had  apprenticed  him  to  a 
respectable  tradesman.    He  served  his  articles  honorably, 

and  Mr.  E nobly  advanced  him  funds  to  establish 

himself  in  business.     He  prospered  beyond  every  one's 

expectations ;  and  the  good,  generous,  confiding  E , 

was  so  delighted  with  his  conduct,  and  persuaded  of  his 
principles,  that  he  gradually  advanced  him  large  sums  of 
money  to  increase  an  extensive  connection ;  and  at  last 
invested  his  all,  amounting  to  little  short  of  £15,000,  in 
this  man's  concern,  for  which  he  received  five  per  cent. 
Sudden  success,  however,  turned  this  young  man's  head ; 

and  Mr.  E had  long  been  uneasy  at  hearing  current 

rumors  about  his  protege's  unsteadiness  and  extrava- 
gance. He  had  several  times  spoken  to  him  about  them ; 
but  was  easily  persuaded  that  the  reports  in  question 
were  as  groundless  as  malignant.  And  as  the  last  half- 
year's  interest  was  paid  punctually,  accompanied  with  a 
hint,  that  if  doubts  were  entertained  of  his  probity,  the 
man  was  ready  to  refund  a  great  part  of  the  principal, 
Mr.  E 's  confidence  revived.  Now,  the  letter  in  ques- 
tion was  from  this  person,  and  stated  that,  though  "cir- 
cumstances" had  compelled  him  to  withdraw  from  his 
creditors  for  the  present — in  other  words,  to  abscond — 

he  had  no  doubt  that,  if  Mr.  E would  wait  a  little, 

he  should  in  time  be  able  to  pay  him  "a  fair  dividend !" 

"Good   God!   why,   E is   ruined!"   exclaimed    Dr. 

D ,  turning  pale,  and  dropping  the  letter,  after  hav- 
ing read  it  to  me.  "Yes,  ruined! — all  the  hard  savings 
of  many  years'  labor  and  economy,  gone  at  a  stroke !" 

"Why,  was  all  his  small  fortune  embarked  in  this 
man's  concern?" 

"All,  except  a  few  hundreds  lying  loose  at  his  banker's! 
— What  is  to  become  of  poor  Miss  E ?" 

"Cannot  this  infamous  scoundrel  be  brought  to  jus- 
tice?"  I  inquired. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  247 

"If  he  were,  he  may  prove,  perhaps,  not  worth  powder 
and  shot,  the  viper!" 

Similar  emotions  kept  us  both  silent  for  several  mo- 
ments. 

"This  will  put  his  philosophy  to  a  dreadful  trial,"  said 
I.  "How  do  you  think  he  will  bear  it,  should  he  recover 
from  the  present  seizure  so  far  as  to  be  made  sensible  of 
the  extent  of  his  misfortunes?" 

"Oh,  nobly,  nobly !  I'll  pledge  my  existence  to  it. 
He'll  bear  it  like  a  Christian  as  well  as  a  philosopher! 
I've  seen  him  in  trouble  before  this." 

"Is  Miss  E entirely  dependent  on  her  uncle;  and 

has  he  made  no  provision  for  her?" 

"Alas,  he  had  appropriated  to  her  £5,000  of  the  £15,- 
000  in  this  man's  hands,  as  a  marriage  portion — I  know 
it,  for  I  am  one  of  his  executors.  The  circumstance  of 
leaving  her  thus  destitute  will,  I  know,  prey  cruelly  on  his 
mind." — Shortly  afterwards,  we  were  summoned  into  the 
chamber  of  the  venerable  sufferer.  His  niece  sat  at  the 
bedside,  near  his  head,  holding  one  of  his  cold  motionless 

hands  in  hers,    Mr.  E 's  face,  deadly  pale,  and  damp 

with  perspiration,  had  suffered  a  shocking  distortion  of 
the  features — the  left  eye  and  the  mouth  being  drawn 
downwards  to  the  left  side.  He  gazed  at  us  vacantly, 
evidently  without  recognizing  us,  as  we  took  our  sta- 
tions, one  at  the  foot,  the  other  at  the  side  of  the  bed. 
What  a  melancholy  contrast  between  the  present  expres- 
sion of  his  eyes  and  that  of  acuteness  and  brilliance  which 
eminently  characterized  them  in  health !  They  reminded 
me  of  Milton's  sun,  looking 

" through  the  horizontal  misty  air, 

Shorn  of  its  beams." 

The  distorted  lips  were  moving  about  incessantly,  as 
though  with  abortive  efforts  to  speak,  though  he  could 
utter  nothing  but  an  inarticulate  murmuring  sound, 
which  he  had  continued  almost  from  the  moment  of  his 
being  struck.  Was  it  not  a  piteous,  a  heart-rending 
spectacle?    Was  this  the  philosopher! 


248  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

After  making  due  inquiries,  and  ascertaining  the  ex- 
tent of  the  injury  to  his  nervous  system,  we  withdrew  to 
consult  on  the  treatment  to  be  adopted.  I  considered 
that  the  uncommon  quantities  of  laudanum  he  had  so 
long  been  in  the  habit  of  receiving  into  his  system,  alone 
sufficiently  accounted  for  his  present  seizure.  Then, 
again,  the  disease  of  the  spine — the  consequent  exhaus- 
tion of  his  energies — the  sedentary,  thoughtful  life  he 
led — all  these  were  at  least  predisposing  causes.  The 
sudden  shock  he  had  received  in  the  morning,  merely  ac- 
celerated what  had  long  been  advancing  on  him.  We 
both  anticipated  a  speedy  fatal  issue,  and  resolved  to 
take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  acquainting  him  with 
his  approaching  end, 

[He  lies  in  nearly  the  same  state  during  Thursday  and 
Friday.] 

Saturday. — We  are  both  astonished  and  delighted  to 

find  that  E 's  daily  paroxysms  have  deserted  him,  at 

least  he  has  exhibited  no  symptoms  of  their  reappearance 
up  to  this  day.  On  entering  the  room,  we  found,  to  our 
inexpressible  satisfaction,  that  his  disorder  had  taken  a 
very  unusual  and  happy  course — having  been  worked  out 
of  the  system  by  fever.  This,  as  my  medical  readers 
will  be  aware,  is  a  very  rare  occurrence. — [Three  or  four 
pages  of  the  Diary  are  occupied  with  technical  details,  of 
no  interest  whatever  to  the  general  reader.] — His  fea- 
tures were  soon  restored  to  their  natural  position,  and,  in 
short,  every  appearance  of  palsy  left  him. 

Sunday  evening. — Mr.  E going  on  well,  and  his 

mental  energies  and  speech  perfectly  restored.  I  called 
on  him  alone.  Almost  his  first  words  to  me  were,  "Well, 
doctor,  good  Mr.  Boyle  was  right,  you  see?"  I  replied, 
that  it  yet  remained  to  be  proved. 

"God  sent  me  a  noble  messenger  to  summon  me  hence, 
did  he  not?  One  whose  character  has  always  been  my 
model,  as  far  as  I  could  imitate  his  great  and  good  quali- 
ties." 

"You  attach  too  much  weight,  Mr.  E ,  to  that  crea- 
ture of  imagination." 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  249 

"What!  do  you  really  doubt  that  I  am  on  my  death- 
bed? I  assuredly  shall  not  recover.  The  pains  in  my 
back  have  left  me,  that  my  end  may  be  easy.  Ay,  ay,  the 
'silver  cord  is  loosed.' "  I  inquired  about  the  sudden 
cessation  of  his  chronic  complaint.  He  said  it  had  totally 
disappeared,  leaving  behind  it  only  a  sensation  of  numb- 
ness. "In  this  instance  of  His  mercy  towards  an  un- 
worthy worm  of  the  earth,  I  devoutly  thank  my  Father — 
my  God !"  he  exclaimed,  looking  reverentially  upward. 
— "Oh,  how  could  I  in  patience  have  possessed  my  soul, 
if  to  the  pains  of  dying  had  been  superadded  those  which 
have  embittered  life !  My  constant  prayer  to  God  has 
been,  that,  if  it  be  His  will,  my  life  may  run  out  cleai 
to  the  last  drop ;  and  though  the  stream  has  been  a  little 
troubled" — alluding  to  the  intelligence  which  had  oc- 
casioned his  illness — "I  may  yet  have  my  prayer  an- 
swered. Oh,  sweet  darling  Anne!  why  should  I  grieve 
for  you?  Where  I  am  going,  I  humbly  believe  you  are! 
Root  and  branch — both  gathered  home !"  He  shed  tears 
abundantly,  but  spoke  of  the  dreadful  bereavement  in 
terms  of  perfect  resignation.  *  *  *  "You  are, 
no  doubt,  acquainted,"  he  continued,  "with  the  other  af- 
flicting news,  which,  I  own,  has  cut  me  to  the  quick !  My 
confidence  has  been  betrayed — my  sweet  niece's  pros- 
pects utterly  blighted,  and  I  made  a  beggar  of  in  my  old 
age.  This  ungrateful  man  has  squandered  away  infa- 
mously the  careful  savings  of  more  than  thirty  years — 
every  penny  of  which  has  been  earned  with  the  sweat 
of  my  brow.  I  do  not  so  much  care  for  myself,  as  I  have 
still  enough  left  to  preserve  me  from  want  during  the 
few  remaining  days  I  have  left  me ;  but  my  poor  dear 
Emma!    My  heart  aches  to  think  of  it!" 

"I  hope  you  may  yet  recover  some  portion  of  your 
property,  Mr.  E ;  the  man  speaks  in  his  letter  of  pay- 
ing you  a  fair  dividend." 

"No,  no — when  once  a  man  has  deliberately  acted  in 
such  an  unprincipled  manner  as  he  has,  it  is  foolish  to 
expect  restitution.  Loss  of  character  and  the  confidence 
of   his   benefactor    makes  him    desperate.      I    find    that. 


250  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

should  I  linger  on  earth  longer  than  a  few  weeks,  I  can- 
not now  afford  to  pay  the  rent  of  this  house — I  must  re- 
move from  it — I  cannot  die  in  the  house  in  which  my  poor 
wife  breathed  her  last — this  very  room !"  His  tears  burst 
forth  again,  and  mine  started  to  my  eyes.  "A  friend  is 
now  looking  out  lodgings  for  me  in  the  neighborhood, 
to  which  I  shall  remove  the  instant  my  health  will  per- 
mit. It  goes  to  my  heart,  to  think  of  the  bustling  auc- 
tioneer disposing  of  all  my  apparatus" — tears  again 
gushed  from  his  eyes — "the  companions  of  many  years" — 

"Dear,  dear  sir! — Your  friends  will  ransack  heaven  and 
earth  before  your  fears  shall  be  verified,"  said  I,  with 
emotion. 

"They — you — are — very  good — but  you  would  be  un- 
successful ! — You  must  think  me  very  weak  to  let  these 
things  overcome  me  in  this  way — one  can't  help  feel- 
ing them ! — A  man  may  writhe  under  the  amputating 
knife,  and  yet  acknowledge  the  necessity  of  its  use !  My 
spirit  wants   disciplining." 

"Allow  me  to  say,  Mr.  E ,  that  I  think  you  bear 

your  misfortunes  with  admirable  fortitude — true  philo- 
sophic  " 

"Oh,  doctor!  doctor!"  he  exclaimed,  interrupting  me 
with  solemn  emphasis — "believe  a  dying  man,  to  whom 
all  this  world's  fancied  realities  have  sunk  into  shadows 
— nothing  can  make  a  deathbed  easy,  but  religion — a 
humble,  hearty  faith  in  Him,  whose  Son  redeemed  man- 
kind !  Philosophy — science — is  a  nothing — a  mockery — a 
delusion — if  it  be  only  of  this  world !  I  believe  from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart,  and  have  long  done  so,  that  the  es- 
sence— the  very  crown  and  glory  of  true  philosophy,  is 
to  surrender  up  the  soul  entirely  to  God's  teaching,  and 
practically  receive  and  appreciate  the  consolations  of 
the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ !"  Oh,  the  fervency  with 
which  he  expressed  himself — his  shrunk  clasped  hands 
pointed  upwards,  and  his  features  beaming  with  devo- 
tion !  I  told  him  it  did  my  heart  good  to  hear  such  opin- 
ions avowed  by  a  man  of  his  distinguished  attainments. 

"Don't — don't — don't  talk  in  that  strain,  doctor!"  said 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  251 

he,  turning  to  me  with  a  reproving  air,  "Could  a  living 
man  but  know  how  compliments  pall  upon  a  dying  man's 
ear  1***1  ^,^  going  shortly  into  the  presence  of 
Him  who  is  Wisdom  itself;  and  shall  I  go  pluming  my- 
self on  my  infinitely  less  than  glow-worm  glimmer,  into 
the  presence  of  that  pure  Effulgence?  Doctor,  I've  felt, 
latterly,  that  I  would  give  worlds  to  forget  the  pitiful 
acquirements  which  I  have  purchased  by  my  life's  la- 
bor, if  my  soul  might  meet  a  smile  of  approbation  when 
it  first  flits  into  the  presence  of  its  Maker — its  Judge!" 

Strange  language !  thought   I,  for  the  scientific   E , 

confessedly  a  master-mind  among  men !  Would  that  the 
shoal  of  sciolists,  now  babbling  abroad  their  infidel  cru- 
dities, could  have  had  one  moment's  interview  with  this 
dying  philosopher!  Pert  fools,  who  are  hardly  released 
from  their  leading-strings — the  very  go-cart,  as  it  were, 
of  elemental  science — before  they  strut  about,  and  forth- 
with proceed  to  pluck  their  Maker  by  the  beard — and 
this,  as  an  evidence  of  their  "independence,"  and  being 
released  from  the  "trammels  of  superstition  !" 

O  Lord  and  Maker  of  the  universe ! — That  thou 
shouldst  be  so  "long-suffering"  towards  these  insolent  in- 
sects of  an  hour ! 

To  return:     I  left  E in  a  glowing  mood  of  mind, 

disposed  to  envy  him  his  deathbed,  even  with  all  the  ills 
which  attended  it!     Before  leaving  the  house  I  stepped 

into  the  parlor  to  speak  a  few  words  to  Miss  E .    The 

sudden  illness  of  her  uncle  had  found  its  way  into  the 
papers ;  and  I  was  delighted  to  find  it  had  brought  a  pro- 
fusion of  cards  every  morning,  many  of  them  bearing  the 
most  distinguished  names  in  rank  and  science.    It  showed 

that  E 's  worth  was  properly  appreciated.    I  counted 

the  cards  of  five  noblemen,  and  very  many  members  of 
the  Royal,  and  other  learned  Societies. 

Wednesday,  15th  August. — Well  poor  E was  yes- 
terday removed  from  his  house  in  Row  where  he 

had  resided  upwards  of  twenty-five  years — which  he 
had  fitted  up,  working  often  with  his  own  hands,  at 
much  trouble  and  expense — having  built  the  laboratory- 


252  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

room  since  he  had  the  house :  he  was  removed,  I  say, 
from  his  house,  to  lodgings  in  the  neighborhood.  He 
has  three  rooms  on  the  first  floor,  small,  indeed,  and  in 
humble  style — but  perfectly  clean,  neat,  and  comfortable. 
Was  not  this  itself  sufficient  to  have  broken  many  a 
haughty  spirit?  His  extensive  philosophical  apparatus, 
furniture,  etc.,  had  all  been  sold,  at  less  than  a  twentieth 
part  of  the  sum  they  had  originally  cost  him !  No  ti- 
dings as  yet  had  been  received  of  the  villain  who  has 

ruined  his  generous  patron.    E has  ceased,  however, 

to  talk  of  it ;  but  I  see  that  Miss  E feels  it  acutely. 

Poor  girl,  well  she  may!  Her  uncle  was  carried  in  a 
sedan  to  his  new  residence,  and  fainted  on  the  way,  but 
has  continued  in  tolerable  spirits  since  his  arrival.  His 
conduct  is  the  admiration  of  all  that  see  or  hear  of  him ! 
The  first  words  he  uttered,  as  he  was  sitting  before  the 
fire  in  an  easy-chair,  after  recovering  a  little  from  the 
exhaustion   occasioned   by   his   being   carried    up-stairs, 

were  to  Dr.  D ,  who  had  accompanied  him.    "Well !" 

he  whispered  faintly,  with  his  eyes  shut — "What  a  gra- 
dation!— Reached  the  halfway-house  between  Row 

and  the  'house  appointed  for  all  living!'" 

"You  have  much  to  bear,  sir!"  said  Dr.  D .    "And 

more  to  be  thankful  for!"  replied  E .     "If  there  was 

such  a  thing  as  a  Protestant  Calendar,"  said  Dr.  D 

to   me   enthusiastically,   while   recounting  what   is   told 

above,  "and  I  could  canonize,  E should  stand  first 

on  the  list,  and  be  my  patron  saint !"    When  I  saw  E , 

he  was  lying  in  bed,  in  a  very  low  and  weak  state,  evi- 
dently declining  rapidly.  Still  he  looked  as  placid  as  his 
fallen  features  would  let  him. 

"Doctor,"  said  he,  soon  after  I  had  sat  down,  "how 
very  good  it  is  of  you  to  come  so  far  out  of  your  regular 
route  to  see  me !" 

"Don't  name  it,"  said  I ;  "proud  and  happy " 

"But,  excuse  me,  I  wish  to  tell  you  that,  when  I  am 
gone,  you  will  find  I  know  how  to  be  grateful,  as  far  as 
my  means  would  warrant." 

"Mr.   E !   my  dear  sir!"   said   I   as   firmly   as   my 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  253 

emotions  could  let  me,  "if  you  don't  promise,  this  day, 
to  erase  every  mention  of  my  name  or  services  from  your 
will,  I  leave  you,  and  solemnly  declare  I  will  never  in- 
trude upon  you  again !     Mr.  E ,  you  distress  me — 

you  do — beyond  measure !" 

"Well — well — well — I'll  obey  you — but  may  God  bless 
you!  God  bless  you!"  he  replied,  turning  his  head  away, 
while  the  tears  trickled  down.  Indeed!  as  if  a  thousand 
guineas  could  have  purchased  the  emotions  with  which 
I  felt  his  poor  damp  fingers  feebly  compressing  my 
hand! 

********** 

"Doctor !"  he  exclaimed,  after  I  had  been  sitting  with 
him  some  time,  conversing  on  various  subjects  con- 
nected with  his  illness  and  worldly  circumstances — "don't 
you  think  God  can  speak  to  the  soul  as  well  in  a  night 
as  a  day  dream?  Shall  I  presume  to  say  he  has  done  so 
in  my  case?"    I  asked  him  what  he  was  alluding  to. 

"Don't  you  recollect  my  telling  you  of  an  optical,  or 

spectral  illusion,  which  occurred  to  me  at  Row? 

A  man  shutting  up  the  shop — ^you  know?"  I  told  him 
I  did. 

"Well — last  night  I  dreamed — I  am  satisfied  it  was  a 
dream — that  I  saw  Mr.  Boyle  again ;  but  how  different ! 
Instead  of  gloomy  clothing,  his  appearance  was  won- 
drously  radiant ;  and  his  features  were  not,  as  before,  sol- 
emn, sad,  and  fixed,  but  wore  an  air  of  joy  and  exultation ; 
and,  instead  of  a  miserable  expiring  taper,  he  held  aloft 
a  light  like  the  kindling  lustre  of  a  star!  What  think  you 
of  that,  doctor?  Surely,  if  both  these  are  the  delusions  of 
a  morbid  fancy — if  they  are,  what  a  light  they  fling  over 
the  'dark  valley'  I  am  entering!" 

I  hinted  my  dissent  from  the  sceptical  sneers  of  the 
day,  which  would  resolve  all  that  was  uttered  on  death- 
beds into  delirious  rant,  confused  disordered  faculties — 
superstition. 

"I  think  you  are  right,"  said  he.  "Who  knows  what 
new  light  may  stream  upon  the  soul,  as  the  wall  be- 
tween time  and  eternity  is  breaking  down?     Who  has 


S54  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

come  back  from  the  grave  to  tell  us  that  the  soul's  ener- 
gies decay  with  the  body,  or  that  the  body's  decay  de- 
stroys or  interrupts  the  exercise  of  the  soul's  powers, 
and  that  all  a  dying  man  utters  is  mere  gibberish?  The 
Christian  philosopher  would  be  loath  to  do  so,  when 
he  recollects  that  God  chose  the  hour  of  death  to  reveal 
futurity  to  the  patriarchs,  and  others,  of  old !  Do  you 
think  a  superintending  Providence  would  allow  the  most 
solemn  and  instructive  period  of  our  life,  the  close — 
scenes  where  men's  hearts  and  eyes  are  open,  if  ever, 
to  receive  admonition  and  encouragement — to  be  mere 
exhibitions  of  absurdity  and  weakness?  Is  that  the  way 
God  treats  his  servants?" 

Friday  afternoon. — In  a  more  melancholy  mood  than 
usual,  on  acount  of  the  evident  distress  of  his  niece 
about  her  altered  prospects.  He  told  me,  however,  that 
he  felt  the  confidence  of  his  soul  in  no  wise  shaken.  "I 
am,"  said  he,  "like  one  lying  far  on  the  shores  of  eternity, 
thrown  there  by  the  waters  of  the  world,  and  whom  a 
high  and  strong  wave  reaches  once  more  and  overflows. 
One  may  be  pardoned  a  sudden  chillness  and  heart-flut- 
tering. After  all,"  he  continued,  "only  consider  what  an 
easy  end  mine  is,  comparatively  with  that  of  many 
others!  How  very — very  thankful  should  I  be  for  such 
an  easy  exit  as  mine  seems  likely  to  be!  God  be  thanked 
that  I  have  to  endure  no  such  agonies  of  horror  and  re- 
morse as  !"    (alluding  to   Mr.  ,  whom   I   was 

then  attending,  and  whose  case  I  had  mentioned  on  a 

former  occasion  to  Mr.  E ,  the  one  described  in  a 

former  part  of  this  Diary,  under  the  title — A  Man  About 
Town) — "that  I  am  writhing  under  no  accident — that  I 
have  not  to  struggle  with  utter  destitution !  Why  am  I 
not  left  to  perish  in  a  prison? — to  sufifer  on  a  scaffold? 
to  be  plucked  suddenly  into  the  presence  of  my  Maker 
in  battle,*  'with  all  my  sins  upon  my  head?'  Suppose 
I  were  grovelling  in  the  hopeless  darkness  of  scepti- 
cism or  infidelity?  Suppose  I  were  still  to  endure  the 
agonies  arising  from  disease  in  my  spine? — O  God!"  ex- 

*This  was  at  the  time  of  the  Peninsular  Campaign, 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  255 

claimed  Mr.  E ,  "give  me  a  more  humble  and  grate- 
ful heart !" 

Monday,  19th  September. — Mr.  E is  still  alive,  to 

the  equal  astonishment  of  Dr.  D and  myself.     The 

secret  must  lie,  I  think,  in  his  tranquil  frame  of  mind. 
He  is  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long !  Oh !  that  my  latter 
days  may  be  like  his !     I  v^^as  listening,  with  feelings  of 

delight  unutterable,  to  E 's  description  of  the  state 

of  his  mind — the  perfect  peace  he  felt  towards  all  man- 
kind, and  his  humble  and  strong  hopes  of  happiness  here- 
after— when  the  landlady  of  the  house  knocked  at  the 

door,  and,  on  entering,  told  Mr.  E that  a  person  was 

down-stairs  very  anxious  to  see  him.  "Who  is  it?"  in- 
quired E .     She  did  not  know.     "Has  he  ever  been 

here  before?"  "No;"  but  she  thought  she  had  several 
times   seen    him    about   the   neighborhood. — "What    sort 

of  a  person  is  he?"  inquired  E ,  with  a  surprised  air, 

— "Oh,  he  is  a  tall  pale   man,   in   a  brown   greatcoat." 

E requested  her  to  go  down  and  ask  his  name.    She 

returned  and  said,  "Mr.  H ,  sir,"    E ,  on  hearing 

her  utter  the  word,  suddenly  raised  himself  in  bed;  the 
little  color  he  had  fled  from  his  cheeks :  he  lifted  up  his 
hands  and  exclaimed — "What  can  the  unhappy  man 
want  with  me?"  He  paused  thoughtfully  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. "You're,  of  course,  aware  who  this  is?"  he  in- 
quired of  me  in  a  whisper,  I  nodded.  "Show  him  up- 
stairs," said  he;  and  the  woman  withdrew, 

I  helped  hastily  to  remove  him  from  his  bed  to  an  arm- 
chair near  the  fire,  "For  your  own  sake,"  said  I  hur- 
riedly, "I  beg  you  to  be  calm ;  don't  allow  your  feelings 

"    I  was  interrupted  by  the  door  opening,  and  just 

such  a  person  as  Mrs.  had  described  entered,  with 

a  slow  hesitating  step,  into  the  room.  He  held  his  hat 
squeezed  in  both  hands,  and  he  stood  for  a  few  moments 
motionless,  just  within  the  door,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 

the  floor.    In  that  posture  he  continued  till  Mrs, had 

retired,  shutting  the  door  after  her,  when  he  turned  sud- 
denly towards  the  easy-chair  by  the  fire,  in  which  Mr, 


256  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

E was  sitting,  much  agitated — approached,  and,  fall- 


ing down  on  his  knees,  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hands, 
through  which  the  tears  presently  fell  like  rain ;  and, 
after  many  sobs  and  sighs,  he  faltered,  "Oh,  Mr.  E !" 

"What  do  you  want  with  me,  Mr.  H ?"  inquired 

Mr.  E ,  in  a  low  tone,  but  very  calmly. 

"Oh!  kind,  good,  abused  sir!  I  have  behaved  like  a 
villain  to  you " 

"Mr.  H ,  I  beg  you  will  not  distress  me ;  consider 

I  am  in  a  very  poor  and  weak  state." 

"Don't,  for  God's  sake,  speak  so  coldly,  sir.  I  am 
heart-broken  to  think  how  shamefully  I  have  used  you !" 

"Well,  then,  strive  to  amend " 

"Oh,  dear,  good  Mr.  E !  can  you  forgive  me?"    Mr. 

E did  not  answer.     I  saw  he  could  not.     The  tears 

were  nearly  overflowing.  The  man  seized  his  hand,  and 
pressed  it  to  his  lips  with  fervency. 

"Rise,  Mr.  H ,  rise !     I  do  forgive  you,  and  I  hope 

that  God  will !  Seek  His  forgiveness,  which  will  avail 
you  more  than  mine !" 

"Oh,  sir!"  exclaimed  the  man,  again  covering  his  eyes 
with  his  hands — "How  very — very —  ill  you  look — how 
pale  and  thin ! — it's  I  that  have  done  it  all — I,  the 
d_dest " 

"Hush,  hush,  sir!"  exclaimed  Mr.   E ,  with   more 

sternness  than  I  had  ever  seen  him  exhibit,  "do  not  curse 
in  a  dying  man's  room." 

"Dying — dying — dying,  sir!"  exclaimed  the  man 
hoarsely,  staring  horror-struck  at  Mr.  E ,  and  retir- 
ing a  step  from  him. 

"Yes,  James,"  replied   E mildly,  calling  him   for 

the  first  time  by  his  Christian  name,  "I  am  assuredly  dy- 
ing— but  not  through  you,  or  anything  you  have  done. 
Come,  come,  don't  distress  yourself  unnecessarily,"  he 
continued  in  the  kindest  tones ;  for  he  saw  the  man  con- 
tinued deadly  pale,  speechless,  and  clasping  his  hands 
convulsively  over  his  breast — "Consider,  James,  the 
death  of  my  daughter,  Mrs. " 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no,  sir — no!     It's  I  that  have  done  it  all; 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  257 

my  ingratitude  lias  broken  your  heart — I  know  it  has ! — 
What  will  become  of  me?" — the  man  resumed,  still  star- 
ing vacantly  at  Mr.  E . 

"James,  I  must  not  be  agitated  in  this  way — it  de- 
stroys me — you  must  leave  the  room,  unless  you  can  be- 
come calm.  What  is  done,  is  done ;  and  if  you  really  re- 
pent of  it " 

"Oh !  I  do  sir ;  and  could  almost  weep  tears  of  blood 
for  it !  But  indeed,  sir,  it  has  been  as  much  my  misfor- 
tune as  my  fault." 

"Was  it  your  misfortune,  or  your  fault,  that  you  kept 
the  infamous  woman  on  whom  you  have  squandered  so 
much  of  your  property — of  mine  rather?"  inquired  Mr. 
E ,  with  a  mild,  expostulating  air.  The  man  sud- 
denly blushed  scarlet,  and  remained  silent. 

"It  is  right  I  should  tell  you  that  it  is  your  miscon- 
duct which  has  turned  me  out,  in  my  old  age,  from  the 
house  which  has  sheltered  me  all  my  life,  and  driven  me 
to  die  in  this  poor  place !  You  have  beggared  my  niece, 
and  robbed  me  of  all  the  hard  earnings  of  my  life — 
wrung  from  the  sweat  of  my  brow,  as  you  well  know, 
James.  How  could  your  heart  let  you  do  all  this?"  The 
man  made  him  no  answer.  "I  am  not  angry  with  you — 
that  is  past;  but  I  am  grieved — disappointed — shocked 
— to  find  my  confidence  in  you  has  been  so  much  abused." 

"Oh,  sir!  I  don't  know  what  it  was  that  infatuated 
me;  but — never  trust  a  living  man  again,  sir — never," — 
replied  the  man  vehemently. 

"It  is  not  likely  that  I  shall,  James — I  shall  not  have 

the  opportunity,"  said   Mr.   E calmly.     The   man's 

eye  continued  fixed  on  Mr.  E ,  his  lip   quivered  in 

spite  of  its  violent  compression,  and  the  fluctuating  col- 
or in  his  cheeks  showed  the  agitation  he  was  suffering. 

"Do  you  forgive  me,  sir,  for  what  I  have  done?"  he 
asked,  almost  inaudibly. 

"Yes — if  you  promise  to  amend — yes!  Here  is  my 
hand — I  do  forgive  you,  as  I  hope  for  my  own  forgive- 
ness hereafter!"  said  Mr.  E ,  reaching  out  his  hand. 

"And  if  your  repentance  is  sincere,  remember,  should  it 


258  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

ever  be  in  your  power,  whom  you  have  most  heavily 

wronged — not    me,    but    Miss    E ,    my    poor    niece. 

If  you  should  ever  be  able  to  make  her  any  repa- 
ration  "  the  tears   stood   in   Mr.   E 's   eyes,   and 

his  emotions  prevented  his  completing  the  sentence. 
"Really,  you  must  leave  me,  James — you  must — I  am 

too  weak  to  bear  this  scene   any   longer,"   said   E 

faintly,  looking  deadly  pale. 

"You  had  better  withdraw,  sir,  and  call  some  other 
time,"  said  I.  He  rose,  looking  almost  bewildered; 
thrust  his  hand  into  his  breast-pocket,  and  taking  out  a 

small   packet,   laid    it   hurriedly   on    Mr.    E 's    lap — 

snatched  his  hand  to  his  lips,  and  murmuring,  "Fare- 
well, farewell,  best — most  injured  of  men!"  withdrew.  I 
watched  him  through  the  window ;  and  saw  that,  as  soon 
as  he  had  left  the  house,  he  set  oflf,  running  almost  at  the 

top  of  his  speed.    When  I  returned  to  look  at  Mr.  E , 

he  had  fainted.  He  had  opened  the  packet,  and  a  letter 
lay  open  in  his  lap,  with  a  great  many  bank  notes.  The 
letter  ran  as  follows:  "Injured  and  revered  sir: — When 
you  read  this  epistle,  the  miserable  writer  will  have 
fled  from  his  country,  and  be  on  his  way  to  America. 
He  has  abused  the  confidence  of  one  of  the  greatest  and 
best  of  men,  but  hopes  the  enclosed  sum  will  show  he 
repented  what  he  had  done.     If  it  is  ever  in  his  power, 

he  will  do  more.    J H ."    The  packet  contained 

bank-notes  to  the  amount  of  £3,000.    When  E had 

recovered  from  his  swoon,  I  had  him  conveyed  to 
bed,  where  he  lay  in  a  state  of  great  exhaustion.  He 
scarcely  spoke  a  syllable  during  the  time  I  continued 
with  him. 

Tuesday. — Mr.  E still  suffers  from  the  effects  of 

yesterday's  excitement.  It  has,  I  am  confident,  hurried 
him  far  on  his  journey  to  the  grave.  He  told  me  he 
had  been  turning  over  the  affair  in  his  mind,  and  con- 
sidered that  it  would  be   wrong  in  him  to   retain   the 

£3,000,  as  it  would  be  illegal,  and  a  fraud  on  H 's 

other  creditors ;  and  this  upright  man  had  actually  sent 
in  the  morning  for  the  solicitor  to  the  bankrupt's  as- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  259 

signees,  and  put  the  whole  into  his  hands,  telHng  him 
of  the  circumstances  under  which  he  had  received  it, 
and  asking  him  whether  he  should  not  be  wrong  in  keep- 
ing it.  The  lawyer  told  him  that  he  might  perhaps  be 
legally,  but  not  morally  wrong,  as  the  law  certainly  for- 
bade such  payments;  and  yet  he  was  by  very  far  the 

largest  creditor.   "Let  me  act  rightly,  then,"  said  E , 

"in  the  sight  of  God  and  man.  Take  the  money,  and 
let  me   come  in  with   the  rest  of  the   creditors."     Mr. 

withdrew.    He  must  have  seen  but  seldom  such  an 

instance    of    noble    conscientiousness !      I    remonstrated 

with  Mr.  E .     "No,  no,  doctor,"  he  replied;  "I  have 

endeavored  strictly  to  do  my  duty  during  life — I  will  not 
begin  roguery  on  my  deathbed !" 

"Possibly  you  may  not  receive  a  penny  in  the  pound, 
Mr.  E ,"  said  I. 

"But  I  shall  have  the  comfort  of  quitting  life  with  a 
clear  conscience!" 

Monday — (a  week  afterwards.) — The  "waary  wheels 
of  life"  will  soon  "stand  still!"     All  is  calm  and  serene 

with  E as  a  summer  evening's  sunset !     He  is   at 

peace  with  all  the  world,  and  with  his  God,  It  is  like 
entering  the  porch  of  heaven,  and  listening  to  an  angel, 
to  visit  and  converse  with  E .  This  morning  he  re- 
ceived the  reward  of  his  noble  conduct  in  the  matter  of 

H 's  bankruptcy.    The  assignees  have  wound  up  the 

affairs,  and  found  them  not  nearly  so  desperate  as  had 
been  apprehended.    The  business  was  still  to  be  carried 

on  in  H 's  name;  and  the  solicitor,  who  had  been 

sent  for  by  E to  receive  the  £3000  in  behalf  of  the 

assignees,  called  this  morning  with  a  cheque  for  £3500, 
and  a  highly  complimentary  letter  from  the  assignees. 
They  informed  him  that  there  was  every  prospect  of  the 
concern's  yet  discharging  the  heavy  amount  of  his  claim, 
and  that  they  would  see  to  its  being  paid  to  whomsoever 

he  might  appoint.     H had  set  sail  for  America  the 

very  day  he  had  called  on  E ,  and  had  left  word  that 

he  should  never  return.  E altered  his  will  this  even- 
ing in  the  presence  of  myself  and  Dr.  D .     He  left 


260  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

about  £4000  to  his  niece,  "and  whatever  sums  might  be 

from  time  to  time  paid  in  from  H 's  business,"  five 

guineas  for  a  yearly  prize  to  the  writer  of  the  best  sum- 
mary of  the  progress  of  philosophy  every  year,  in  one 
of  the  Scotch  colleges ;  and  ten  pounds  to  be  delivered 
every  Christmas  to  ten  poor  men,  as  long  as  they  lived, 
and  who  had  already  received  the  gratuity  for  several 
years ;  "and  to  J H ,  my  full  and  hearty  forgive- 
ness, and  prayers  to  God  that  he  may  return  to  a  course 
of  virtue  and  true  piety,  before  it  is  too  late."        *        * 

"How  is  it,"  said  he,  addressing  Dr.  D and  me, 

"that  you  have  neither  of  you  said  anything  to  me  about 
examining  my  body  after  my  decease?"  Dr.  D re- 
plied, that  he  had  often  thought  of  asking  his  permission, 
but  had  kept  delaying  from  day  to  day.  "Why?"  inquired 

E ,  with  a  smile  of  surprise,  "do  you  fancy  I  have  any 

silly  fears  or  prejudices  on  that  subject — that  I  am 
anxious  about  the  shell  when  the  kernel  is  gone?  I  can  as- 
sure you  that  it  would  rather  give  me  pleasure  than  oth- 
erwise to  think  that,  by  an  examination  of  my  body,  the 
cause  of  medical  science  might  be  advanced,  and  so  I 
might  minister  a  little  to  my  species.  I  must,  however,  say 
you  nay  ;  for  I  promised  my  poor  wife  that  I  would  forbid 
it.  She  had  prejudices,  and  I  have  a  right  to  respect  them." 

Wednesday. — He  looked  much  reduced  this  evening. 
I  had  hurried  to  his  lodgings,  to  communicate  what  I 
considered  would  be  the  gratifying  intelligence,  that  the 
highest  prize  of  a  foreign  learned  society  had  just  been 

awarded  him,  for  his  work  on  ,  together  with  a 

fellowship.  My  hurried  manner  somewhat  discomposed 
him;  and  before  I  had  communicated  my  news,  he 
asked,  with  some  agitation,  "What! — Some  new  misfor- 
tune?" When  I  had  told  him  my  errand — "Oh,  bubble! 
bubble !  bubble !"  he  exclaimed,  shaking  his  head  with 
a  melancholy  smile ;  "would  I  not  give  a  thousand  of 
these  for  a  poor  man's  blessing?  Are  these,  these,  the 
trifles  men  toil  through  a  life  for?  Oh!  if  it  had  pleased 
God  to  give  me  a  single  glimpse  of  what  I  now  see, 
thirty  years  ago,  how  true  an  estimate  I  should  have 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  261 

found  of  the  littleness — the  vanity — of  human  applause! 
How  much  happier  would  my  end  have  been!  How 
much  nearer  should  I  have  come  to  the  character  of  a 
true  philosopher,  an  impartial,  independent,  sincere 
searcher  after  truth,  for  its  own  sake!" 

"But  honors  of  this  kind  are  of  admirable  service  to 
science,  Mr.  E ,"  said  I,  "as  supplying  strong  incen- 
tives and  stimulants  to  a  pursuit  of  philosophy." 

"Yes ;  but  does  it  not  argue  a  defect  in  the  constitution 
of  men's  minds  to  require  them?  What  is  the  use  of 
stimulants  in  medicine,  doctor?  Don't  they  presuppose 
a  morbid  sluggishness  in  the  parts  they  are  applied  to? 
Do  you  ever  stimulate  a  healthy  organ  ?  So  it  is  with  the 
little  honors  and  distinctions  we  are  speaking  of.  Di- 
rectly a  man  becomes  anxious  about  obtaining  them,  his 
mind  has  lost  its  healthy  tone — its  sympathies  with 
truth — with  real  philosophy." 

"Would  you,  then,  discourage  striving  for  them? 
Would  you  banish  honors  and  prizes  from  the  scientific 
world?" 

"Assuredly — altogether — did  we  but  exist  in  a  better 
state  of  society  than  we  do.  *  *  What  is  the 
proper  spirit  in  which,  as  matters  at  present  stand,  a 
philosopher  should  accept  of  honors? — Merely  as  evi- 
dences, testimonials,  to  the  multitude  of  those 
who  are  otherwise  incapable  of  appreciating  his 
merits,  and  would  set  him  down  as  a  dreamer, 
a  visionary — but  that  they  saw  the  estimation  in 
which  he  was  held  by  those  who  are  likely  to  canvass 
his  claims  strictly.  They  compel  the  deference,  if  not 
respect,  of  the  ol  ttoaIoi.  A  philosopher  ought  to  receive 
them,  therefore,  as  it  were,  in  self-defence — a  shut  mouth 
to  babbling,  envious  gainsayers.  Were  all  the  world 
philosophers,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  not  merely 
would  honors  be  unnecessary,  but  an  insult — a  reproach. 
Directly  a  philosopher  is  conscious  that  the  love  of  fame, 
the  ambition  to  secure  such  distinction,  is  gradually  in- 
terweaving itself  with  the  very  texture  of  his  mind — that 
such  considerations  are  becoming  necessary  in  any  de- 


262  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

gree  to  prompt  him  to  undertake  or  prosecute  scientific 
pursuits — he  may  write  Ichabod  on  the  door  of  his  soul's 
temple,  for  the  glory  is  departed.  His  motives  are  spur- 
ious, his  fires  false!  To  the  exact  extent  of  the  neces- 
sity for  such  motives  is,  as  it  were,  the  pure  ore  of  his 
soul  adulterated.  Minerva's  jealous  eyes  can  detect  the 
slightest  vacillation  or  inconsistency  in  her  votaries,  and 
discover  her  rival  even  before  the  votary  himself  is  sen- 
sible of  her  existence,  and  withdraws  from  her  faithless 
admirer  in  cold  disdain,  perhaps  never  to  return. 

"Do  you  think  that  Archimedes,  Plato,  or  Sir  Isaac 
Newton,  would  have  cared  a  straw  for  even  royal  hon- 
ors? The  true  test,  believe  me — the  almost  infallible 
criterion — of  a  man's  having  attained  to  real  greatness 
of  mind — to  the  true  philosophic  temper — is,  his  indif- 
ference to  all  sorts  of  honors  and  distinctions.  Why — 
what  seeks  he — or,  at  least,  professes  to  seek — but  Truth? 
Is  he  to  stop  in  the  race,  to  look  with  Atalanta  after  the 
golden  apples? 

"He  should  endure  honors,  not  go  out  of  his  way  to 
seek  them.  If  one  apple  hitch  in  his  vest,  he  may  carry 
it  with  him,  not  stop  to  dislodge  it.  Scientific  distinc- 
tions are  absolutely  necessary  in  the  present  state  of  so- 
ciety, because  it  is  defective.  A  mere  ambitious  struggle 
for  college  honors,  through  rivalry,  has  induced  many  a 
man  to  enter  so  far  upon  philosophical  studies,  as  that 
their  charms,  unfolding  in  proportion  to  his  progress, 
have  been,  of  themselves,  at  last  sufficient  to  prevail  upon 
him  to  go  onwards — to  love  Science  for  herself  alone. 
Honors  make  a  man  open  his  eyes,  who  would  else  have 
gone  to  his  grave  with  them  shut :  and  when  once  he  has 
seen  the  divinity  of  truth,  he  laughs  at  obstacles,  and 
follows  it  through  evil  and  through  good  report — if  his 
soul  be  properly  constituted — if  it  have  any  of  the  nobler 
sympathies  of  our  nature.  That  is  my  homily  on  hon- 
ors," said  E ,  with  a  faint  smile.  "I  have  not  will- 
fully preached  and  practised  different  things,  I  assure 
you,"  he  continued,  wtih  a  modest  air;  "but,  through 
life,  have  striven  to  act  upon  these  principles.     Still,  I 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  263 

never  saw  so  clearly  as  at  this  moment  how  small  my 
success  has  been — to  what  an  extent  I  have  been  influ- 
enced by  undue  motives — as  far  as  an  overvaluing  of 
the  world's  honors  may  be  so  considered.  Now,  me- 
thinks,  I  see  through  no  such  magnifying  medium ;  the 
mists  and  vapors  are  dispersing;  and  I  begin  to  see  that 
these  objects  are  in  themselves  little,  even  to  nothing- 
ness. The  general  retrospect  of  my  life  is  far  from  satis- 
factory," continued  E with  a  sigh,  "and  fills  me  with 

real  sorrow !" 

"Why?"  I  inquired,  with  surprise. 

"Why,  for  this  one  reason — because  I  have,  in  a  mea- 
sure, sacrificed  my  religion  to  philosophy!  Oh!  will  my 
Maker  thus  be  put  off  with  the  mere  lees,  the  refuse  of 
my  time  and  energies?  For  one  hour  in  the  day  that  I 
have  devoted  to  Him,  have  I  not  given  twelve  or  four- 
teen to  my  own  pursuits?  What  shall  I  say  of  this 
shortly — in  a  few  hours — perhaps  moments — when  I 
stand  suddenly  in  the  presence  of  God — when  I  see  Him 
face  to  face !  Oh,  doctor,  my  heart  sinks  and  sickens  at 
the  thought!     Shall  I  not  be  speechless,  as  one  of  old?" 

I  told  him  I  thought  he  was  unnecessarily  severe  with 
himself — that  he  "wrote  bitter  things  against  himself." 

"I  thought  so  once,  nay  all  my  life,  myself,  doctor," 
said  he  solemnly — "but  mark  my  words,  as  those  of  a 
dying  man — you  will  think  as  I  do  now,  when  you  come 
to  be  in  my  circumstances!" 

The  above,  feebly  conveyed  perhaps  to  the  reader, 
may  be  considered  "The  Last  Words  of  a  Philosopher  I" 
They  made  an  impression  on  my  mind  which  has  never 
been  effaced,  and,  I  trust,  never  will.     The  reader  need 

not  suspect  Mr.  E of  "prosing."     The  sentiments  I 

have  here  endeavored  to  record  were  uttered  with  no 
pompous  pedantry  of  manner,  but  with  the  simplest, 
most  modest  air,  and  in  the  most  silvery  tones  of  voice 
I  ever  listened  to.  He  often  paused,  from  faintness ;  and, 
at  the  conclusion,  his  voice  grew  almost  inaudible,  and 
he  wiped  the  thick-standing  dews  from  his  forehead.  He 
begged  me  in  a  low  whisper  to  kneel  down,  and  read  him 


264  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

one  of  the  church  prayers — the  one  appointed  for  those 
in  prospect  of  death :  I  took  down  the  prayer-book  and 
complied,  though  my  emotions  would  not  suflfer  me  to 
speak  in  more  than  an  often-interrupted  whisper.  He 
lay  perfectly  silent  throughout  with  his  clasped  hands 
pointing  upwards ;  and,  when  I  had  concluded,  he  re- 
sponded feebly  but  fervently,  "Amen — Amen !"  and 
the  tears  gushed  down  his  cheeks.  My  heart  was  melted 
within  me.  The  silk  cap  had  slipped  from  his  head,  and 
his  long,  loose,  silvery  hair  streamed  over  his  bed-dress : 
his  appearance  was  that  of  a  dying  prophet  of  old ! 

I  fear,  however,  that  I  am  going  on  at  too  great  length 
for  the  reader's  patience,  and  must  pause.  For  my  own 
part,  I  could  linger  over  the  remembrances  of  these  sol- 
emn scenes  for  ever:  but  I  shall  hasten  on  to  the  "last 
scene  of  all."  It  did  not  take  place  till  near  a  fortnight 
after  the  interview  above  narrated.  His  manner  during 
that  time  evinced  no  tumultuous  ecstasies  of  soul ;  none 
of  the  boisterous  extravagance  of  enthusiasm.  His  de- 
parture was  like  that  of  the  sun,  sinking  gradually  and 
finally,  lower — lower — lower — no  sudden  upflashings — 
no  quivering — no  flickering  unsteadiness  about  his  fad- 
ing rays ! 

Tuesday,  13th  October. — Miss  E sent  word  that 

her  uncle  appeared  dying,  and  had  expressed  a  wish  to 

see  both  Dr.  D and  me.     I  therefore  despatched  a 

note  to  Dr.  D ,  requesting  him  to  meet  me  at  a  cer- 
tain place,  and  then  hurried  through  my  list  of  calls,  so 
as  to  have  finished  by  three  o'clock.     By  four,  we  were 

both  in  the  room  of  the  dying  philosopher.     Miss  E 

sat  by  his  bedside,  her  eyes  swollen  with  weeping,  and 
was  in  the  act  of  kissing  her  uncle's  cheek  when  we  en- 
tered.    Mr.   F ,  an   exemplary  clergyman,  who  had 

been  one  of  E 's  earliest  and  dearest  friends,  sat  at 

the  foot  of  the  bed,  with  a  copy  of  Jeremy  Taylor's  Holy 
Living  and  Dying,  from  which  he  was  reading  in  a  low 

tone,  at  the  request  of  E .     The  appearance  of  the 

latter  was  very  interesting.  At  his  own  instance,  he  had, 
not  long  before,  been  shaved,  washed,  and  had  a  change 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  265 

of  linen ;  and  the  bed  was  also  but  recently  made,  and 
was  not  at  all  tumbled  or  disordered.  The  mournful  toll- 
ing of  the  church-bell  for  a  funeral  was  also  heard  at  in- 
tervals, and  added  to  the  solemnity  of  the  scene.  I  have 
seldom  felt  in  such  a  state  of  excitement  as  I  was  on  first 
entering  the  room.  He  shook  hands  with  each  of  us, 
or  rather  we  shook  his  hands,  for  he  could  hardly 
lift  them  from  the  bed.  "Well — thank  you  for  coming 
to  bid  me  farewell!"  said  he  with  a  smile;  adding  pres- 
ently, "Will  you  allow  Mr.  F to  proceed  with  what 

he  is  reading?"    Of  course  we  nodded,  and  sat  in  silence 

listening.     I  watched  E 's  features ;  they  were  much 

wasted — but  exhibited  no  traces  of  pain.  His  eye, 
though  rather  sunk  in  the  socket,  was  full  of  the  calm- 
ness and  confidence  of  unwavering  hope,  and  often  di- 
rected upwards  with  a  devout  expression.  A  most 
heavenly  serenity  was  diffused  over  his  countenance. 
His  lips  occasionally  moved,  as  if  in  the  utterance  of 

prayer.    When  Mr.  F had  closed  the  book,  the  first 

words  uttered  by  E were,  "Oh !  the  infinite  goodness 

of  God!" 

"Do  you  feel  that  your  'anchor  is  within  the  veil'?" 
inquired  F . 

"Oh! — yes — yes! — My  vessel  is  steadily  moored — the 
tide  of  life  goes  fast  away — I  am  forgetting  that  I  ever 
sailed  on  its  sea !"  replied  E ,  closing  his  eyes. 

"The  star  of  faith  shines  clearest  in  the  night  of  ex- 
piring nature  !"  exclaimed  F . 

"The  Sun — the  Sun  of  faith  say  rather,"  replied  E , 


in  a  tone  of  fervent  exultation ;  "it  turns  my  night  into 
day — it  warms  my  soul — it  rekindles  my  energies ! — Sun 
— Sun  of  Righteousness!"  he  exclaimed  faintly.     Miss 

E kissed     him     repeatedly     with     deep     emotion. 

"Emma,  my  love!"  he  whispered,  "hope  thou  in  God! 
See  how  he  will  support  thee  in  Death !" — She  burst  into 
tears — "Will  you  promise  me,  love,  to  read  the  little 
Bible  I  gave  you,  when  I  am  gone — especially  the  New 
Testament? — Do — do,  love." 


266  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"I   will — I "   replied   Miss    E ,   almost    choked 

with  her  emotions.    She  could  say  no  more. 

"Dr. ,"  he  addressed  me,  "I  feel  more  towards  you 

than   I   can   express ;   your   services — services ,"   he 

grew  very  pale  and  faint.  I  rose  and  poured  out  a  glass 
of  wine,  and  put  it  to  his  lips.  He  drank  a  few  tea-spoon- 
fuls, and  it  revived  him. 

"Well !"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  stronger  voice  than  I  had 
before  heard  him  speak ;  "I  thank  God  I  leave  the  world 
in  perfect  peace  with  all  mankind !  There  is  but  one 
thing  that  grieves  me,  in  these  my  last  thoughts  on  life 
— the  general  neglect  of  religion  among  men  of  science." 

Dr.  D said  it  must  afford  him  great  consolation  to 

reflect  on  the  steadfast  regard  for  religion  which  he  him- 
self had  always  evidenced.  "No,  no —  I  have  gone  nearly 
as  far  astray  as  any  of  them ;  but  God's  rod  has  brought 
me  back  again.  I  thank  God  devoutly  that  he  ever  af- 
flicted me  as  I  have  been  afflicted  through  life — He 
knows  I  do!" 

Some  one  mentioned  the  prevalence  of  Materialism. 
He  lamented  it  bitterly ;  but  assured  us  that  several  of 
the  most  eminent  men  of  the  age — naming  them — ^be- 
lieved firmly  in  the  immateriality  and  immortality  of  the 
human  soul. 

"Do  you  feel  firmly  convinced  of  it,  on  natural  and 
philosophical  grounds?"  inquired  Dr.  D . 

"I  do;  and  have,  ever  since  I  instituted  an  inquiry 
on  the  subject.  I  think  the  difficulty  is  to  believe  the  re- 
verse— when  it  is  owned,  on  all  hands,  that  nothing  in 
Nature's  changes  suggests  the  idea  of  annihilation.  I 
own  that  doubts  have  very  often  crossed  my  mind  on  the 
subject,  but  could  never  see  the  reason  of  them." 

"But  your  confidence  does  not  rest  on  the  barren 
grounds  of  reason,"  said  I ;  "you  believe  in  Him  who 
brought  'life  and  immortality'  into  the  world." 

"Yes — 'Thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ !'  " 

"Do  you  never  feel  a  pang  of  regret  at  leaving  life?" 
I  inquired. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  267 

**No,  no,  no!"  he  replied  with  emphasis.  "Life  and  I 
are  grown  unfit  for  each  other!  My  sympathies,  my 
hopes,  my  joys,  are  too  large  for  it!  Why  should  I,  just 
got  into  the  haven,  think  of  risking  shipwreck  again?" 

He  lay  still  for  nearly  twenty  minutes  without  speak- 
ing. His  breathing  was  evidently  accomplished  with 
great  difficulty ;  and  when  his  eyes  occasionally  fixed  on 
any  of  us,  we  perceived  that  their  expression  was  altered. 
He  did  not  seem  to  see  what  he  looked  at.  I  noticed  his 
fingers,  also,  slowly  twitching  or  scratching  the  bed- 
clothes. Still  the  expression  of  his  features  was  calm 
and  tranquil  as  ever.     He  was  murmuring  something  in 

Miss  E 's  ear;  and  she  whispered  to  us  that  he  said. 

"Don't  go — I  shall  want  you  at  six."  Within  about  a 
quarter  of  six  o'clock,  he  inquired  where  Emma  was,  and 

Dr.  D ,  and  Mr.  F ,  and  myself.     We  severally 

answered  that  we  sat  around  him. 

"I  have  not  seen  you  for  the  last  twenty  minutes.  Shake 
hands  with  me!"  We  did.  "Emma,  my  sweet  love! — 
put  your  arm  around  my  neck — I  am  cold,  very  cold." 
Her  tears  fell  fast  on  his  face.  "Don't  cry,  love,  don't — 
I  am  quite  happy!  God — God  bless  you,  love!" 

His  lower  jaw  began  to  drop  a  little. 

Mr.  F ,  moved  almost  to  tears,  rose  from  his  chair, 

and  noiselessly  kneeled  down  beside  him. 

"Have  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ!"  he  exclaimed, 
looking  steadfastly  into  his  face. 

"I  do!"  he  answered  distinctly,  while  a  faint  smile  stole 
over  his  drooping  features. 

"Let  us  pray!"  whispered  Mr.  F ;  and  we  all  knelt 

down  in  silence.  I  was  never  so  overpowered  in  my  life. 
I  thought  I  should  have  been  choked  with  suppressing 
my  emotions.  "O  Lord,  our  heavenly  Father!"  com- 
menced Mr.  F ,  in  a  low  tone,  "receive  Thou  the  spirit 

of  this  dying  brother — ."    E slowly  elevated  his  left 

hand,  and  kept  it  pointing  upwards  for  a  few  moments, 
when  it  suddenly  dropped,  and  a  long,  deep  respiration 


268  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

announced  that  this  great  and  good  man  had  breathed  his 
last! 

No  one  in  the  room  spoke  or  stirred  for  several  min- 
utes; and  I  almost  thought  I  could  hear  the  beatings  of 
our  hearts.  He  died  within  a  few  moments  of  six  o'clock. 
Yes — there  lay  the  sad  effigy  of  our  deceased  "guide,  phil- 
osopher, and  friend" — and  yet,  why  call  it  sad?  I  could 
detect  no  trace  of  sadness  in  his  features.  He  had  left 
the  world  in  peace  and  joy ;  he  had  lived  well,  and  died 
as  he  had  lived.  I  can  now  appreciate  the  force  of  that 
prayer  of  one  of  old — "Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  right- 
eous, and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his !" 

There  was  some  talk  among  his  friends  of  erecting 
a  tablet  to  his  memory  in  Westminster  Abbey;  but  it 
has  been  dropped.  We  soon  lose  the  recollection  of  de- 
parted excellence,  if  it  require  anything  like  active  ex- 
ertion. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  STATESMAN. 


MBITION !— Its  sweets  and  bitters— its  splendid 
miseries — its  wrinkling  cares — its  wasting  ag- 
onies— its  triumphs  and  downfalls — who  has 
not,  in  some  degree,  known  and  felt  them?  Mor- 
alists, historians,  and  novelists,  have  filled  libraries,  in 
picturing  their  dreary  yet  dazzling  details;  nevertheless, 
Ambition's  votaries,  or  rather  victims,  are  as  numerous, 
as  enthusiastic  as  ever ! 

Such  is  the  mounting  quality  existing  in  almost  every 
one's  breast,  that  no  "  Pelion  upon  Ossa"  heapings,  and 
accumulations  of  facts  and  lessons,  can  keep  it  down. 
Fully  as  I  feel  the  truth  of  this  remark,  vain  and  futile 
though  the  attempt  may  prove,  I  cannot  resist  the  in- 
clination to  contribute  my  mite  towards  the  vast  memor- 
ials of  Ambition's  martyrs ! 

My  specific  purpose  in  first  making  the  notes  from 
which  the  ensuing  narrative  is  taken,  and  in  now  present- 
ing it  to  the  public — in  thus  pointing  to  the  spectacle  of  a 
sun  suddenly  and  disastrously  eclipsed  while  blazing  at 
its  zenith — is  this :  To  show  the  steps  by  which  a  really 
great  mind — an  eager  and  impetuous  spirit — was  volun- 
tarily sacrificed  at  the  shrine  of  political  ambition :  fore- 
going, nay,  despising  the  substantial  joys  and  comforts 
of  elegant  privacy,  and  persisting,  even  to  destruction, 
in  its  frantic  efforts  to  bear  up  against,  and  grapple  with 
cares  too  mighty  for  the  mind  of  man.  It  is  a  solemn 
lesson,  imprinted  on  my  memory  in  great  and  glaring 
characters;  and  if  I  do  but  succeed  in  bringing  a  few  of 
them  before  the  reader,  they  may  serve  at  least  to  check 
extravagant  expectations,  by  disclosing  the  misery  which 


270  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

often  lies  cankering  behind  the  most  splendid  popular- 
ity. If,  by  the  way,  I  should  be  found  inaccurate  in  my 
use  of  political  technicalities  and  allusions,  the  reader 
will  be  pleased  to  overlook  it,  on  the  score  of  my  pro- 
fession. 

I  recollect,  when  at  Cambridge,  overhearing  some  men 
of  my  college  talk  about  the  "splendid  talents  of  young 

Stafford,"*  who  had  lately  become  a   member  of  

Hall ;  and  they  said  so  much  about  the  "great  hit"  he  had 
made  in  his  recent  debut  at  one  of  the  debating  societies 
— which  then  flourished  in  considerable  numbers — that  I 
resolved  to  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  going  to  hear 
and  judge  for  myself.  That  was  soon  afforded  me. 
Though  not  a  member  of  this  society,  I  gained  admis- 
sion through  a  friend.  The  room  was  crammed  to  the 
very  door;  and  I  was  not  long  in  discovering  the  "star 
of  the  evening"  in  the  person  of  a  young  fellow-com- 
moner, of  careless  and  even  slovenly  appearance.  The 
first  glimpse  of  his  features  disposed  me  to  believe  all  I 
had  heard  in  his  favor.  There  was  no  sitting  for  effect ; 
nothing  artificial  about  his  demeanor — no  careful  care- 
lessness of  attitude — no  knitting  of  the  brows,  or  pain- 
ful straining  of  the  eyes,  to  look  brilliant  or  acute !  The 
mere  absence  of  all  these  little  conceits  and  fooleries, 
so  often  disfiguring  "talented  young  speakers,"  went,  in 
my  estimation,  to  the  account  of  his  superiority.  His 
face  was  "sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought,"  and 
its  lineaments  were  very  deeply  and  strongly  marked. 
There  was  a  wondrous  power  and  fire  in  the  eyes,  which 
gleamed  with  restless  energy  whichever  way  he  looked. 
They  were  neither  large  nor  prominent — but  all  soul — all 
expression.  It  was  startling  to  find  their  glance  sud- 
denly settled  on  one.  His  forehead,  as  much  as  I  saw 
of  it,  was  knotted  and  expansive.  There  was  a  prevail- 
ing air  of  anxiety  about  his  worn  features,  young  as  he 
was — being  then  only  twenty-one — as  if  his  mind  were 
every  instant  hard   at  work — which   an   inaccurate   ob- 

*It  can  hardly  be  necessary,  I  presume,  to  reiterate,  that 
whatever  names  individuals  are  indicated  by  in  these  papers  are 
fictitious. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  271 

server  might  have  set  down  to  the  score  of  ill-nature, 
especially  when  coupled  with  the  matter-of-fact,  un- 
smiling nods  of  recognition,  with  which  he  returned  the 
polite  inclinations  of  those  who  passed  him.  To  me, 
sitting  watching  him,  it  seemed  as  though  his  mind  were 
of  too  intense  and  energetic  a  character  to  have  any  sym- 
pathies with  the  small  matters  transpiring  around  him. 
I  knew  his  demeanor  was  simple,  unaffected,  genuine, 
and  it  was  refreshing  to  see  it.  It  predisposed  me  to  like 
him,  if  only  for  being  free  from  the  ridiculous  airs  as- 
sumed by  some  with  whom  I  associated.  He  allowed 
five  or  six  speakers  to  address  the  society,  without  mak- 
ing notes,  or  joining  in  the  noisy  exclamations  and  inter- 
ruptions of  those  around  him. 

At  length  he  arose  amid  perfect  silence — the  silence  of 
expectant  criticism  v/hetted  by  rivalry.  He  seemed  at 
first  a  little  flustered,  and,  for  about  five  minutes,  spoke 
hesitatingly  and  somewhat  unconnectedly — with  the  air 
of  a  man  who  does  not  know  exactly  how  to  get  at  his 
subject,  which  he  is  yet  conscious  of  having  thoroughly 
mastered.  At  length,  however,  the  current  ran  smooth, 
and  gradually  widened  and  swelled  into  such  a  stream — 
a  torrent  of  real  eloquence — as  I  never  before  or  since 
heard  poured  from  the  lips  of  a  young  speaker — or,  pos- 
sibly, any  speaker  whatsoever,  except  himself,  in  after  life. 
He  seemed  long  disinclined  to  enhance  the  effect  of  what 
he  was  uttering  by  oratorical  gesture.  His  hands  both 
grasped  his  cap,  which,  ere  long,  was  compressed, 
twisted,  and  crushed  out  of  all  shape ;  but,  as  he  warmed, 
he  laid  it  down,  and  used  his  arms,  the  levers  of  elo- 
quence, with  the  grace  and  energy  of  a  natural  orator. 
The  effect  he  produced  was  prodigious.  We  were  all  car- 
ried away  with  him,  as  if  by  whirlwind  force.  As  for  my- 
self, I  felt  for  the  first  time  convinced  that  oratory  such 
as  that  could  persuade  me  to  anything.  As  might  have 
been  expected,  his  speech  was  fraught  with  the  faults  in- 
cident to  youth  and  inexperience,  and  was  pervaded  with 
a  glaring  hue  of  extravagance  and  exaggeration.  Some  of 
his   "facts"   were   preposterously   incorrect,   and   his   in- 


272  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

ferences  false ;  but  there  was  such  a  prodigious  power  of 
language — such  a  blaze  of  fancy — such  a  stretch  and 
grasp  of  thought — and  such  casuistical  dexterity  evinced 
throughout,  as  indicated  the  presence  of  first-rate  capa- 
bilities. He  concluded  amid  a  storm  of  applause ;  and  be- 
fore his  enthusiastic  auditors,  whispering  together  their 
surprise  and  admiration,  could  observe  his  motions,  he 
had  slipped  away  and  left  the  room. 

The  excitement  into  which  this  young  man's  "first  ap- 
pearance" had  thrown  me,  kept  me  awake  the  greater 
part  of  the  night ;  and  I  well  recollect  feeling  a  transient 
fit  of  disinclination  for  the  dull  and  sombre  profession  of 
medicine,  for  which  I  was  destined.  That  evening's  dis- 
play warranted  my  indulging  high  expectations  of  the 
future  eminence  of  young  Stafford ;  but  I  hardly  went 
so  far  as  to  think  of  once  seeing  him  Secretary  of  State, 
and  leader  of  the  British  House  of  Commons.  Accident 
soon  afterwards  introduced  me  to  him,  at  the  supper- 
table  of  a  mutual  friend.  I  found  him  distinguished  as 
well  by  that  simplicity  and  frankness  ever  attending  the 
consciousness  of  real  greatness,  as  by  the  recklessness, 
irritability,  and  impetuosity  of  one  aware  that  he  is  far 
superior  to  those  around  him,  and  in  possession  of  that 
species  of  talent  which  is  appreciable  by  all — of  those 
rare  powers  which  insure  a  man  the  command  over  his 
fellows — keen  and  bitter  sarcasm,  and  extraordinary 
readiness  of  repartee.  Then,  again,  all  his  predilec- 
tions were  political.  He  utterly  disregarded  the  popu- 
lar pursuits  at  college.  Whatever  he  said,  read,  or 
thought,  had  reference  to  his  "ruling  passion" — and  that 
not  by  fits  and  starts,  under  the  arbitary  impulses  of  ri- 
valry or  enthusiasm,  but  steadily  and  systematically.  I 
knew  from  himself,  that,  before  his  twenty-third  year,  he 
had  read  over  and  made  notes  of  the  whole  of  the  par- 
liamentary debates,  and  have  seen  a  table  which  he  con- 
structed for  reference,  on  a  most  admirable  and  useful 
plan.  The  minute  accuracy  of  his  acquaintance  with  the 
whole  course  of  political  affairs,  obtained  by  such  labori- 
ous methods  as  this,  may  be  easily  conceived.    His  pow- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  273 

ers  of  memory  were  remarkable — as  well  for  their  ca- 
pacity as  tenacity;  and  the  presence  of  mind  and  judg- 
ment with  which  he  availed  himself  of  his  acquisitions, 
convinced  his  opponent  that  he  had  undertaken  an  ar- 
duous, if  not  hopeless  task,  in  rising  to  reply  to  him.  It 
was  impossible  not  to  see,  even  in  a  few  minutes'  inter- 
view with  him,  that  Ambition  had  "marked  him  for  her 
own." 

Alas !  what  a  stormy  career  is  before  this  young  man ! 
I  have  often  thought,  while  listening  to  his  fervid  har- 
angues and  conversations,  and  witnessing  the  twin  fires 
of  intellect  and  passion  flashing  from  his  eyes.  One  large 
ingredient  in  his  composition  was  a  most  morbid  sensi- 
bility ;  and  then  he  devoted  himself  to  every  pursuit  with 
a  head-long,  undistinguishing  enthusiasm  and  energy, 
which  inspired  me  with  lively  apprehensions  lest  he 
should  wear  himself  out,  and  fall  by  the  way,  before  he 
could  actually  enter  on  the  great  arena  of  public  life.  His 
forehead  was  already  furrowed  with  premature  wrinkles ! 
His  application  was  incessant.  He  rose  every  morning 
at  five,  and  retired  pretty  regularly  by  eleven. 

Our  acquaintance  gradually  ripened  into  friendship, 
and  we  visited  each  other  with  mutual  frequency  and  cor- 
diality. When  he  left  college,  he  entreated  me  to  accom- 
pany him  to  the  Continent ;  but  financial  difficulties  on 
my  part  forbade  it.  He  was  possessed  of  a  tolerably  am- 
ple fortune;  and,  at  the  time  of  quitting  England,  was 

actually  in  treaty  with  Sir  for  a  borough.     I  left 

Cambridge  a  few  months  after  Mr.  Stafford ;  and,  as  we 
were  mutually  engaged  with  the  arduous  and  absorb- 
ing duties  of  our  respective  professions,  we  saw  or 
heard  little  or  nothing  of  one  another  for  several 
years.  In  the  very  depth  of  my  distress — during  the 
first  four  years  of  my  establishment  in  London — I  recol- 
lect once  calling  at  the  hotel  which  he  generally  made  his 
town  quarters,  for  the  purpose  of  soliciting  his  assist- 
ance in  the  way  of  introductions ;  when,  to  my  anguish 
and  mortification,  I  heard,  that  on  that  very  morning  he 


274  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

had  quitted  the  hotel  for  Calais,  on  his  return  to  the  Con- 
tinent. 

At  length  Mr.  Stafford,  who  had  long  stood  contem- 
plating on  the  brink,  dashed  into  the  tempestuous  waters 
of  public  life,  and  emerged — a  member  of   Parliament 

for  the  borough  of .    I  happened  to  see  the  Gazette 

which  announced  the  event,  about  two  years  after  the 
occurrence  of  the  accident  which  elevated  me  into  for- 
tune. I  did  not  then  require  any  one's  interference  on 
my  behalf,  being  content  with  the  independent  exercise 
of  my  profession;  and  even  if  I  had  been  unfortunate, 
too  long  an  interval  had  elapsed,  I  thought,  to  warrant 
my  renewing  a  mere  college  acquaintance  with  such  a 
man  as  Mr.  Stafford.  I  was  content,  therefore,  to  keep 
barely  within  the  extreme  rays  of  this  rising  sun  in  the 
political  hemisphere.  I  shall  not  easily  forget  the  feel- 
ings of  intense  interest  with  which  I  saw,  in  one  of  the 
morning  papers,  the  name  of  my  quondam  college  friend, 
"Mr.  Stafford,"  standing  at  the  head  of  a  speech  of  two 
column's  length — or  the  delight  with  which  I  paused 
over  the  frequent  interruptions  of  "Hear,  hear !" — "Hear, 
hear,  hear!" — "Cheers" — "Loud  Cheers" — which  marked 
the  speaker's  progress  in  the  favor  of  the  House.  "We 
regret,"  said  the  reporter,  in  a  note  at  the  end,  "that  the 
noise  in  the  gallery  prevented  our  giving  at  greater 
length  the  eloquent  and  effective  maiden  speech  of  Mr. 
Stafford,  which  was  cheered  perpetually  throughout,  and 
excited  a  strong  sensation  in  the  House."  In  my  en- 
thusiasm, I  did  not  fail  to  purchase  a  copy  of  that  news- 
paper, and  have  it  now  in  my  possession.  It  needed  not 
the  inquiries  which  everywhere  met  me,  "Have  you  read 
Mr.  Stafford's  maiden  speech?"  to  assure  me  of  his  splen- 
did prospects,  the  reward  of  his  early  and  honorable  toils. 

His  "maiden  speech"  formed  the  sole  engrossing  topic 
of  conversation  to  my  wife  and  me,  as  we  sat  at  supper 
that  evening;  and  she  was  asking  me  some  such  ques- 
tion as  is  generally  uppermost  in  ladies'  minds  on  the 
mention  of  a  popular  character,  "What  sort  of  looking 
man  he  was  when  I  knew  him  at  Cambridge?" — when  a 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  275 

forcible  appeal  to  the  knocker  and  bell,  followed  by  the 
servant's  announcing,  that  "a  gentleman  wished  to  speak 
to  me  directly,"  brought  me  into  my  patients'  room.  The 
candles,  which  were  only  just  lit,  did  not  enable  me  to 
see  the  person  of  my  visitor  very  distinctly ;  but  the  in- 
stant he  spoke  to  me,  removing  a  handkerchief  which  he 
held  to  his  mouth,  I  recognized — could  it  be  possible? — 
the  very  Mr.  Stafford  we  had  been  speaking  of !  I  shook 
him  affectionately  by  the  hand,  and  should  have  pro- 
ceeded to  compliment  him  warmly  on  his  last  evening's 
success  in  the  House,  but  that  his  dreadful  paleness  of 
features  and  discomposure  of  manner  disconcerted  me. 

"My  dear  Mr,  Stafford,  what  is  the  matter?    Are  you 
ill?     Has  anything  happened?"     I  inquired  anxiously. 

"Yes,  doctor — perhaps  fatally  ill,"  he  replied,  with 
great  agitation.  "I  thought  I  would  call  on  you  on  my 
way  from  the  House,  which  I  have  just  left.  It  is  not  my 
fault  that  we  have  not  maintained  our  college  acquaint- 
ance ;  but  of  that  more  hereafter.  I  wish  your  advice — 
your  honest  opinion  on  my  case.  For  God's  sake,  don't 
deceive  me!  Last  evening  I  spoke,  for  the  first  time,  in 
the  House,  at  some  length,  and  with  all  the  energy  I 
could  command.  You  may  guess  the  consequent  ex- 
haustion I  have  suffered  during  the  whole  of  this  day; 
and  this  evening,  though  much  indisposed  with  fever 
and  a  cough,  I  imprudently  went  down  to  the  House, 
when  Sir so  shamefully  misrepresented  cer- 
tain portions  of  the  speech  I  had  delivered  the  preceding 
night,  that  I  felt  bound  to  rise  and  vindicate  myself.  I 
was  betrayed  into  greater  length  and  vehemence  than  I 
had  anticipated;  and,  on  sitting  down,  was  seized  with 
such  an  irrepressible  fit  of  coughing,  as  at  last  forced  me 
to  leave  the  House.  Hoping  it  would  abate,  I  walked 
for  some  time  about  the  lobby — and,  at  length,  thought  it 
better  to  return  home  than  re-enter  the  House.  While 
hunting  after  my  carriage,  the  violence  of  the  cough 
subsided  into  a  small  hacking,  irritating  one,  accompan- 
ied with  a  spitting.  After  driving  about  as  far  as  White- 
hall, the  vivid  glare  of  one  of  the  street-lamps  happened 


276  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

to  fall  suddenly  on  my  white  pocket-handkerchief,  and, 
O  God!"  continued  Mr.  Stafford  almost  gasping  for 
breath,  "this  horrid  sight  met  my  eye !"  He  spread  out 
a  pocket-handkerchief,  all  spotted  and  dabbled  with 
blood !  It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  he  com- 
municated to  me  what  is  gone  before.  "Oh !  it's  all  over 
with  me — the  chapter's  ended,  I'm  afraid !"  he  murmured 
almost  inarticulately,  and  while  I  was  feeling  his  pulse, 
he  fainted. 

I  placed  him  instantly  in  a  recumbent  position — loos- 
ened his  neckerchief  and  shirt-collar — dashed  some  cold 
water  in  his  face — and  he  presently  recovered.  He  shook 
his  head,  in  silence,  very  mournfully — his  features  ex- 
pressing utter  hopelessness.  I  sat  down  close  beside 
him,  and,  grasping  his  hand  in  mine,  endeavored  to  re- 
assure him.  The  answers  he  returned  to  the  few  ques- 
tions I  asked  him,  convinced  me  that  the  spitting  of 
blood  was  unattended  with  danger,  provided  he  could 
be  kept  quiet  in  body  and  mind.  There  was  not  the 
slightest  symptom  of  radical  mischief  in  the  lungs.  A 
glance  at  his  stout  build  of  body,  especially  at  his  ample 
sonorous  chest,  forbade  the  supposition.  I  explained  to 
him,  with  even  professional  minuteness  of  detail,  the 
true  nature  of  the  accident,  its  effects,  and  method  of 
cure.  He  listened  to  me  with  deep  attention,  and  at  last 
seemed  convinced.  He  clasped  his  hands,  exclaiming, 
"Thank  God !  thank  God !"  and  entreated  me  to  do  on  the 
spot  what  I  had  directed  to  be  done  by  the  apothecary — 
to  bleed  him.  I  complied,  and  from  a  large  orifice,  took 
a  considerable  quantity  of  blood.  I  then  accompanied 
him  home — saw  him  consigned  to  bed — prescribed  the 
usual  lowering  remedies — absolutely  forbade  him  to 
open  his  lips,  except  in  the  slightest  whisper  possible; 
and  left  him  calm,  and  restored  to  a  tolerable  measure 
of  self-possession. 

One  of  the  most  exquisite  sources  of  gratification,  aris- 
ing from  the  discharge  of  our  professional  duties,  is  the 
disabusing  our  patients  of  their  harrowing  and  ground- 
less apprehensions  of  danger.     One  such  instance  as  is 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  277 

related  above,  is  to  me  an  ample  recompense  for  months 
of  miscellaneous,  and  often  thankless  toil,  in  the  exercise 
of  my  profession.  Is  it  not,  in  a  manner,  plucking  a  pa- 
tient from  the  very  brink  of  the  grave,  to  which  he  had 
despairingly  consigned  himself,  and  placing  him  once 
more  in  the  busy  throng  of  life — the  very  heart  of  so- 
ciety? I  have  seen  men  of  the  strongest  intellect  and 
nerve — whom  the  detection  of  a  novel  and  startling 
symptom  has  terrified  into  giving  themselves  up  for  lost 
— in  an  instant  dispossessed  of  their  apprehensions,  by 
explaining  to  them  the  real  nature  of  what  has  alarmed 
them.  The  alarm,  however,  occasioned  by  the  rupture 
of  a  blood-vessel  in  or  near  the  lungs,  is  seldom  unwar- 
ranted, although  it  may  be  excessive;  and  though  we 
can  soon  determine  whether  or  not  the  accident  is  in  the 
nature  of  a  primary  disease,  or  symptomatic  of  some  in- 
curable pulmonary  affection,  and  dissipate  or  corrobor- 
ate our  patient's  apprehensions  accordingly,  it  is  no  more 
than  prudent  to  warn  one  who  has  once  experienced  this 
injury,  against  any  exertions  or  excesses  which  have  a 
tendency  to  interfere  with  the  action  of  the  lungs,  by 
keeping  in  sight  the  possibility  of  a  fatal  relapse.  To  re- 
turn, however,  to  Mr.  Stafford. 

His  recovery  was  tardier  than  I  could  have  expected. 
His  extraordinary  excitability  completely  neutralized 
the  effect  of  my  lowering  and  calming  system  of  treat- 
ment. I  could  not  persuade  him  to  give  his  mind  rest ; 
and  the  mere  glimpse  of  a  newspaper  occasioned  such 
a  flutter  and  agitation  of  spirits,  that  I  forbade  them  al- 
together for  a  fortnight.  I  was  in  the  habit  of  writing 
my  prescriptions  in  his  presence  and  pausing  long 
enough  over  them  for  the  purpose  of  unsuspectedly  ob- 
serving him ;  and  though  he  would  tell  me  that  "his  mind 
was  still  as  a  stagnant  pool,"  his  intense  air,  his  cor- 
rugated brows  and  fixed  eyes,  evinced  the  most  active 
exercise  of  thought.  When  in  a  sort  of  half-dozing  state, 
he  would  often  mutter  about  the  subjects  nearest  his 

heart.     "Ah !  must  go  out — the Bill,  their  touchstone 

— ay — though and  his  Belial-tongue." 


378  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 


"  'Tis  cruel — 'tis  tantalizing,  doctor,"  he  said  one  morn- 
ing, "to  find  one's  self  held  by  the  foot  in  this  way,  like 
a  chained  eagle !  The  world  forgets  every  one  that  slips 
for  a  moment  from  public  view.  Alas !  alas !  my  plans — 
my  projects — are  all  unravelling!" — "Thy  sun,  young 
man,  may  go  down  at  noon !"  I  often  thought,  when  re- 
flecting on  his  restless  and  ardent  spirit.  He  wanted 
case-hardening — long  physical  training — to  fit  him  for 
the  harrassing  and  exhausting  campaign  on  which  he 
had  entered.  Truly,  truly,  your  politician  should  have 
a  frame  of  adamant,  and  a  mind  "thereto  conforming 
strictly."  He  should  be  utterly  inaccessible  to  emotion — 
and  especially  to  the  finer  feelings  of  our  nature,  since 
there  is  no  room  for  their  exercise.  He  should  forget  his 
heart,  his  family,  his  friends — everything  except  his  own 
interests  and  ambitio-n.  It  should  be  with  him  as  with  a 
consummate  intriguer  of  old — 

No  rest,  no  breathing-time  had  he,  or  lacked — 
Lest  from  the  slippery  steep  he  suddenly 
Might  fall.     Of  every  joy  forgetful  quite, 

Life's  softness  had  no  charm  for  him . 

His  object  sole 

To  cheat  the  silly  world  of  her  applause — his  eye 
Fix'd  with  stern  steadfastness  upon  the  Star 
That  shed  but  madness  on  him. 

I  found  Mr.  Stafford  one  day  in  high  chafe  about  a 
sarcastic  allusion  in  the  debate  to  a  sentiment  which  he 
had  expressed  in  Parliament — "Oh !  one  might  wither 
that  fellow  with  a  word  or  two,  the  stilted  noodle !"  said 
he,  pointing  to  the  passage,  while  his  eye  glanced  like 
lightning. 

"You'll  more  likely  wither  your  own  prospects  of  ever 
making  the  trial,  if  you  don't  moderate  your  exertions," 
I  replied.  He  smiled  incredulously,  and  made  me  no  an- 
swer, but  continued  twisting  about  his  pencil-case  with 
a  rapidity  and  energy  which  showed  the  high  excite- 
ment under  which  he  was  laboring.  His  hard,  jerking, 
irregular  pulse,  beating  on  the  average  of  a  hundred  a 
minute,   excited   my   lively   apprehensions,    lest   the    in- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  37§ 

creased  action  of  the  heart  should  bring  on  a  second  fit 
of  blood-spitting.  I  saw  clearly  that  it  would  be  in  vain 
for  him  to  court  the  repose  essential  to  his  convales- 
cence, so  long  as  he  continued  in  town  ;  and,  with  infinite 
difficulty,  prevailed  on  him  to  betake  himself  to  the  coun- 
try. We  wrung  a  promise  from  him  that  he  would  set 
about  "unbending" — "unharnessing,"  as  he  called  it — 
that  he  would  "give  his  constitution  fair  play."  He  ac- 
knowledged that,  to  gain  the  objects  he  had  proposed  to 
himself,  it  was  necessary  for  him  "to  husband  his  re- 
sources" ;  and  briskly  echoed  my  quotation — "ncqiic  semper 
arcum  tendit  Apollo."  In  short,  we  dismissed  him  in  the 
confident  expectation  of  seeing  him  return  after  a  requis- 
ite interval,  with  recruited  energies  of  body  and  mind. 
He  had  scarcely,  however,  been  gone  a  fortnight,  before 
a  paragraph  ran  the  round  of  the  daily  papers,  announ- 
cing, as  nearly  ready  for  publication,  a  political  pamphlet, 
"by  Charles  Stafford,  Esq.,  M.  P."; — and  in  less  than 
three  weeks — sure  enough — a  packet  was  forwarded  to 
my  residence  from  the  publisher,  containing  my  rebellious 
patient's  pamphlet,  accompanied  with  the  following  hasty 
note: —  "Aff/cAT^mc  — Even  with  you! — you  did  not,  you 
will  recollect,  interdict  writing;  and  I  have  contrived  to 
amuse  myself  with  the  accompanying  trifle. — Please  look 

at  page  ,  and  see  the  kind  of  things  I  have  said  of 

poor  Lord  ,  the  worthy  who  attacked  me  the  other 

evening  in  the  Plouse  behind  my  back."  This  "trifle" 
was  in  the  form  of  a  pamphlet  of  sixty-four  pages,  full  of 
masterly  argumentation  and  impetuous  eloquence;  but 
unfortunately,  owing  to  the  publisher's  dilatoriness,  it 
came  "a  day  behind  the  fair,"  and  attracted  but  little 
attention. 

His  temporary  rustication,  however,  was  attended  with 
at  least  two  beneficial  results — recruited  health,  and  the 

heart  of  Lady  Emma  ,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  a 

nobleman,  remotely  connected  with  Mr.  Stafford's  fam- 
ily. This  attachment  proved  powerful  enough  to  alienate 
him  for  a  while  from  the  turmoils  of  political  life ;  for  not 
only  did  the  beauty,  wealth,  and  accomplishments  of  Lady 


280  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

Emma  render  her  a  noble  prize,  worthy  of  great 

effort  to  obtain,  but  a  powerful  military  rival  had  taken 
the  field  before  Mr.  Stafford  made  his  appearance,  and 
seemed  disposed  to  move  heaven  and  earth  to  carry  her 
off.  It  is  needless  to  say  how  such  a  consideration  was 
calculated  to  rouse  and  absorb  all  the  energies  of  the 
young  senator,  and  keep  him  incessantly  on  the  qui  vive. 
It  is  said  that  the  lady  wavered  for  some  time,  uncertain 
to  which  of  her  brilliant  suitors  she  should  give  the  nod 
of  preference.  Chance  decided  the  matter.  It  came  to 
pass  that  a  contested  election  arose  in  the  county,  and 
Mr.  Stafford  gave  a  very  animated  and  successful  speech 
from  the  hustings  (not  far  from  which,  at  a  window,  was 
standing  Lady  Emma)  in  favor  of  her  ladyship's  brother, 
one  of  the  candidates.  lo  triumphe\  That  happy  evening 
the  enemy  "surrendered  at  discretion" ;  and  ere  long,  it 
was  known  far  and  wide  that,  in  newspaper  slang,  "an 
affair  was  on  the  tapis"  between  Mr.  Stafford  and  the 
"beautiful  and  accomplished  Lady  Emma ,"  etc.,  etc. 

It  is  my  firm  persuasion  that  the  diversion  in  his  pur- 
suits effected  by  this  "affair,"  by  withdrawing  Mr.  Staf- 
ford for  a  considerable  interval  from  cares  and  anxieties 
which  he  was  physically  unable  to  cope  with,  lengthened 
his  life  by  many  years ;  giving  England  a  splendid 
statesman,  and  this,  my  Diary,  the  sad  records  which  are 
now  to  be  laid  before  the  reader. 

One  characteristic  of  our  profession,  standing,  as  it 
were,  in  such  sad  and  high  relief,  as  to  scare  many  a  sen- 
sitive mind  from  entering  into  its  service,  is,  that  it  is 
concerned,  almost  exclusively,  with  the  dark  side  of  hu- 
manity. As  carnage  and  carrion  guide  the  gloomy  flight 
of  the  vulture,  so  misery  is  the  signal  for  a  medical  man's 
presence.  We  have  to  do  daily  with  broken  hearts, 
blighted  hopes,  pain,  sorrow,  death!  And  though  the 
satisfaction  arising  from  the  due  discharge  of  our  duties 
be  that  of  a  good  Samaritan — a  rich  return — we  cannot 
help  counting  the  heavy  cost — aching  hearts,  weary 
limbs,  privations,  ingratitude.  Dark  array!  It  may  be 
considered  placing  the  matter  in  a  whimsical  point  of 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  281 

view;  yet  I  have  often  thought  that  the  two  great  pro- 
fessions of  Law  and  Medicine  are  but  foul  carrion  birds 
— the  one  preying  on  the  moral,  the  other  on  the  physical 
rottenness  of  mankind. 

"Those  who  are  well  need  not  a  physician,"  say  the 
Scriptures ;  and  on  this  ground  it  is  easy  to  explain  the 
melancholy  hue  pervading  these  papers.  They  are  mir- 
rors reflecting  the  dark  colors  exposed  to  them.  It  is 
true  that  some  remote  relations,  arising  out  of  the  par- 
ticular combinations  of  circumstances  first  requiring  our 
professional  interference,  may  afford,  as  it  were,  a  pass- 
ing gleam  of  distant  sunshine,  in  the  development  of 
some  trait  of  beautiful  character,  some  wondrous  "good, 
from  seeming  ill  educed !"  but  these  are  incidental  only, 
and  evanescent — enhancing,  not  relieving  the  gloom  and 
sorrow  amid  which  we  move.  A  glimpse  of  heaven 
would  but  aggravate  the  horrors  of  hell !  These  chilling 
reflections  force  themselves  on  my  mind  when  surveying 
the  very  many  entries  in  my  Diary,  concerning  the  emin- 
ent individual  whose  case  I  am  now  narrating — concern- 
ing one  who  seemed  born  to  bask  in  the  brightness  of 
life — to  reap  the  full  harvest  of  its  joys  and  comforts, 
and  yet  "walked  in  darkness" !  Why  should  it  have  been 
so?    Answer — Ambition! 

The  reader  must  hurry  on  with  me  through  the  next 
ten  years  of  Mr.  Stafiford's  life,  during  which  period  he 
rose  with  almost  unprecedented  rapidity.  He  had  hardly 
time,  as  it  were,  to  get  warm  in  his  nest,  before  he  was 
called  to  lodge  in  the  one  above  him,  and  then  the  one 
above  that;  and  so  on  upwards,  till  people  began  to  view 
his  progress  with  their  hands  shading  their  dazzled  eyes, 
while  they  exclaimed,  "fast  for  the  top  of  the  tree!"  He 
was  formed  for  political  popularity.  He  had  a  most  win- 
ning, captivating,  commanding  style  of  delivery,  which 
was  always  employed  in  the  steady,  consistent  advocacy 
of  one  line  of  principles.  The  splendor  of  his  talents — 
his  tact  and  skill  in  debate — the  immense  extent  and  ac- 
curacy of  his  political  information — early  attracted  the 
notice  of  Ministers,  and  he  was  not  suffered  to  wait  long 


282  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

before  they  secured  his  services,  by  giving  him  a  popular 
and  influential  office.  During  all  this  time  he  maintained 
a  very  friendly  intimacy  with  me,  and  often  put  into 
requisition  my  professional  services.  About  eight 
o'clock,  one  Saturday  evening,  I  received  the  following 
note  from  Mr.  Stafford : — 

"Dear  ,  excuse  excessive  haste.     Let  me  entreat 

you  (I  will  hereafter  account  for  the  suddenness  of  this 
application)  to  make  instant  arrangements  for  spending 

with  me  the  whole  of  to-morrow  (Sunday)  at ,  and 

to  set  off  from  town  in  time  for  breakfasting  with  Lady 
Emma  and  myself.  Your  presence  is  required  by  most 
urgent  and  special  business ;  but  allow  me  to  beg  you 
will  appear  at  breakfast  with  an  unconcerned  air — as  a 
chance  visitor. — Yours  always  faithfully, 

"C.  Stafford." 
The  words  "whole"  and  "special"  were  thrice  under- 
scored ;  and  this,  added  to  the  very  unusual  illegibility  of 
the  writing,  betrayed  an  urgency,  and  even  agitation, 
which  a  little  disconcerted  me.  The  abruptness  of  the 
application  occasioned  me  some  trouble  in  making  the 
requisite  arrangements.  As,  hovv^ever,  it  was  not  a  busy 
time  with  me,  I  contrived  to  find  a  substitute  for  the 
morrow  in  my  friend  Dr.  D . 

It  was  on  a  lovely  Sabbath  morning,  in  July  18 — ,  that, 
in  obedience  to  the  above  hurried  summons,  I  set  off  on 
horseback  from  the  murky  metropolis ;  and,  after  rather 
more  than  a  two  hours'  ride,  found  myself  entering  the 
grounds  of  Mr.  Staft"ord,  who  had  recently  purchased  a 
beautiful  villa  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames.  It  was  about 
nine  o'clock,  and  Nature  seemed  but  freshly  awakened 
from  the  depth  of  her  over-night's  slumbers,  her  tresses 
all  uncurled,  as  it  were,  and  her  perfumed  robes  glisten- 
ing with  the  pearls  of  morning  dew.  A  deep  and  rich  re- 
pose brooded  over  the  scene,  subduing  every  feeling  of 
my  soul  into  sympathy.  A  groom  took  my  horse;  and, 
finding  that  neither  Mr,  Stafford  nor  Lady  Emma  were 
yet  stirring,  I  resolved  to  walk  about  and  enjoy  the 
scenery.     In  front  of  the  house  stretched  a  fine  lawn. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  283 

Studded  here  and  there  with  laurel  bushes  and  other  ele- 
gant shrubs,  and  sloping  down  to  the  river's  edge;  and 
on  each  side  of  the  villa,  and  behind,  were  trees  disposed 
with  the  most  beautiful  and  picturesque  eflfect  imagin- 
able. Birds  were  caroling  cheerfully  and  loudly  on  all 
sides  of  me,  as  though  they  were  intoxicated  with  their 
own  "woodland  melody."  I  walked  about  as  amid  en- 
chantment, breathing  the  balminess  and  fragrance  of  the 
atmosphere,  as  the  wild  horse  snififs  the  scent  of  the 
desert.  How  keenly  are  Nature's  beauties  appreciable 
when  but  rarely  seen  by  her  unfortunate  admirer,  who 
is  condemned  to  a  town  life  ! 

I  stood  on  the  lawn  by  the  river's  edge,  watching  the 
ripple  of  the  retiring  tide,  pondering  within  myself 
whether  it  was  possible  for  such  scenes  as  these  to  have 
lost  all  charms  for  their  restless  owner.  Did  he  relish 
or  tolerate  them?  Could  the  pursuits  of  ambition  have 
blunted,  deadened  his  sensibilities  to  the  beauty  of  Na- 
ture, the  delights  of  home?  These  thoughts  were  pass- 
ing through  my  mind,  when  I  was  startled  by  the  tap- 
ping of  a  loose  glove  over  my  shoulder ;  and,  on  turning 
round,  beheld  Mr.  Stafiford,  in  his  flowered  morning 
gown,  and  his  face  partly  shaded  from  the  glare  of  the 
morning  sun,  beneath  a  broad-rimmed  straw  hat.  "Good- 
morning,  doctor — good-morning,"  said  he ;  "a  thousand 
thanks  for  your  attention  to  my  note  of  last  night ;  but 
see !  yonder  stands  Lady  Emma,  waiting  breakfast  for 
us,"  pointing  to  her  ladyship,  who  was  standing  at  the 
window  of  the  breakfast-room.  Mr.  Stafiford  put  his 
arm  into  mine,  and  we  walked  up  to  the  house.     "My 

dear  sir,  what  can  be  the  meaning  of  your "  said  I, 

with  an  anxious  look. 

"Not  a  word — not  a  breath — if  you  please,  till  we  are 
alone  after  breakfast." 

"Well — you  are  bent  on  tantalizing!  What  can  be  the 
matter?    What  is  this  mountain  of  mystery?" 

"It  may  prove  a  molehill,  perhaps,"  said  he  carelessly; 
"but  we'll  see  after  breakfast." 


284  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"What  an  enchanting  spot  you  have  of  it!"  I  ex- 
claimed, pausing  and  looking  around  me. 

"Oh,  very  paradisaical,  I  dare  say,"  he  replied,  with 
an  air  of  indifference  that  vv^as  quite  laughable.  "By  the 
way,"  he  added  hurriedly,  "did  you  hear  any  rumors 

about  Lord  's  resignation  late  last  night?"     "Yes." 

"And  his  successor — is  he  talked  of?"  he  inquired  eagerly. 

"Mr.  C ."  "Mr.  C !    Is  it  possible?     Ah,  ha"— 

he  muttered,  raising  his  hand  to  his  cheek  and  looking 
thoughtfully  downwards. 

"Come,  come,  Mr,  Stafford,  'tis  now  my  turn.  Do 
drop  these  eternal  politics  for  a  few  moments,  I  beg." 

"Ay,  ay,  'still  harping  on  my  daughter!'  I'll  sink  the 
shop,  however,  for  a  while,  as  our  town  friends  say.  But 
I  really  beg  pardon — 'tis  rude,  very.     But  here  we  are. 

Lady  Emma,  Dr.  ,"  said  he,  as  we  approached  her 

ladyship  through  the  opened  stained-glass  doorway.  She 
sat  before  the  breakfast  urn,  looking,  to  my  eyes,  as 
bloomingly  beautiful  as  at  the  time  of  her  marriage, 
though  ten  summers  had  waved  their  silken  pinions  over 
her  head,  but  so  softly  as  scarcely  to  flutter  or  fade  a  fea- 
ture in  passing.  Yes,  thus  she  sat  in  her  native  loveliness 
and  dignity,  the  airiness  of  girlhood  passed  away  into  the 
mellowed  maturity  of  womanhood !  She  looked  the 
beau  ideal  of  simple  elegance,  in  her  long  snowy  morning 
dress,  her  clustering  auburn  hair  surmounted  with  a 
slight  gossamer  network  of  blonde — not  an  ornament 
about  her!  I  have  her  figure,  even  at  this  interval  of 
time,  most  vividly  before  me,  as  she  sat  on  that  mem- 
orable morning,  unconscious  that  the  errand  which  made 
me  her  guest  involved — but  I  will  not  anticipate.  She 
adored,  nay,  idolized  her  husband — little  as  she  saw  of 
him — and  he  was  in  turn  as  fondly  attached  to  her  as  a 
man  could  be,  whose  whole  soul  was  swallowed  up  in 
ambition.  Yes,  he  was  not  the  first  to  whom  political 
pursuits  have  proved  a  very  disease,  shedding  blight  and 
mildew  over  the  heart ! 

I  thought  I  detected  an  appearance  of  restraint  in  the 
manner  of  each.    Lady  Emma  often  cast  a  furtive  glance 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  285 

of  anxiety  at  her  husband — and  with  reason — for  his 
features  wore  an  air  of  repressed  uneasiness.  He  was 
now  and  then  absent,  and  when  addressed  by  either  of 
us,  would  reply  with  a  momentary  sternness  of  manner 
— passing,  however,  instantly  away — which  showed  that 
his  mind  was  occupied  with  unpleasant  or  troubled 
thoughts.  He  seemed  at  last  aware  that  his  demeanor 
attracted  our  observation,  and  took  to  acting.  All  traces 
of  anxiety  or  uneasiness  disappeared,  and  gave  place  to 
his  usual  perfect  urbanity  and  cheerfulness.  Lady  Em- 
ma's manner  towards  me,  too,  was  cooler  than  usual, 
which  I  attributed  to  the  fact  of  my  presence  not  hav- 
ing been  sufficiently  accounted  for.  My  embarrassment 
may  be  easily  conceived. 

"What  a  delicious  morning!"  exclaimed  Lady  Emma, 
looking  through  the  window  at  the  fresh  blue  sky  and 
the  cheery  prospect  beneath.  We  echoed  her  sentiments. 
"I  think,"  said  I,  "that,  could  I  call  such  a  little  paradise 
as  this  mine,  I  would  quit  the  smoke  and  uproar  of  Lon- 
don for  ever!" 

"I  wish  all  thought  with  you.  Dr.  ,"  replied  her 

ladyship  with  a  sigh,  looking  touchingly  at  her  husband. 

"What  opportunities  for  tranquil  thought !"  I  went  on. 

"Ay,  and  so  forth!"  said  Mr.  Stafford  gaily.  "Listen 
to  another  son  of  peace,  and  solitude,  my  Lord  Roscom- 
mon— 

Hail,  sacred  Solitude!  from  this  calm  bay 
I  view  the  world's   tempestuous   sea, 

And  with  wise  pride  despise 

All  those  senseless  vanities: 
With  pity  moved  for  others,  cast  away 
On  rocks  of  hopes  and  fears,  I  see  them  toss'd. 
On  rocks  of  folly  and  of  vice  I  see  them  lost: 
Some,  the  prevailing  malice  of  the  great. 

Unhappy  men,  or  adverse  fate. 
Sunk  deep  into  the  gulfs  of  an  afflicted  state: 
But  more,  far  more,  a  numberless  prodigious  train. 
Whilst  Virtue  courts  them,  but,  alas!  in  vain. 

Fly  from  her  kind  embracing  arms. 
Deaf  to  her  fondest  call,  blind  to  her  greatest  charms, 
And,  sunk  in  pleasures  and  in  brutish  ease, 
They,  in  their  shipwrecked  state,  themselves  obdurate  please. 

*  *  *  * 

Here  may  I  always  on  this  downy  grass, 
Unknown,  unseen,  my  easy  moments  pass. 


286  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

Till   with   a   gentle    force,   victorious    Death 

My  solitude  invade, 
And,  stopping  for  a  while  my  breath. 
iWith  ease  conveys  me  to  a  better  shade. 

"There's  for  you,  my  lady !  Well  sung,  my  Lord  Ros- 
common!  Beautiful  as  true!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Stafford 
gaily,  as  soon  as  he  had  concluded  repeating  the  above 
ode,  in  his  own  distinct  and  beautiful  elocution,  with  real 
pathos  of  manner;  but  his  mouth  and  eye  betrayed  that 
his  own  mind  sympathized  not  with  the  emotions  of  the 
poet,  but  rather  despised  the  air  of  inglorious  repose  they 
breathed.  The  tears  were  in  Lady  Emma's  eyes,  as  she 
listened  to  him!  Presently  one  of  his  daughters,  a  fine 
little  girl  about  six  years  of  age,  came  sliding  and  sim- 
pering into  the  room,  and  made  her  way  to  her  mother. 
She  was  a  lively,  rosy,  arch-eyed  little  creature,  and  her 
father  looked  fondly  at  her  for  a  moment,  exclaiming, 
"Well,  Eleanor!"  and  his  thoughts  had  evidently  soon 
passed  far  away.  The  conversation  turned  on  Mr.  Staf- 
ford's reckless,  absorbing  pursuit  of  politics,  which  Lady 
Emma  and  I  deplored,  and  entreated  him  to  give  more 
of  his  time  and  affections  to  domestic  concerns. 

*  *  *  "You  talk  to  me  as  if  I  were  dying,"  said  he, 
rather  petulantly ;  "why  should  I  not  pursue  my  profes- 
sion— my  legitimate  profession? — As  for  your  still 
waters — your  pastoral  simplicities — your  Arcadian  bliss 
— pray  what  inducements  have  I  to  run  counter  to  my 
own  inclinations  to  cruise  what  you  are  pleased  to  call 
the  stormy  sea  of  politics?" 

"What  inducements? — Charles,  Charles,  can't  you  find 
them  here?"  said  his  lady,  pointing  to  herself  and  her 
daughter.  Mr.  Stafford's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  even  to 
overflowing,  and  he  grasped  her  hand  with  affectionate 
energy,  took  his  smiling  unconscious  daughter  on  his 
knee,  and  kissed  her  with  passionate  fervor.  "Semel  insani- 
vimus  omnes,"  he  muttered  to  me,  a  few  moments  after,  as 
if  ashamed  of  the  display  he  had  recently  made.  For  my 
own  part,  I  saw  that  he  occasionally  lost  the  control  over 
feelings  which  were,  for  some  reason  or  other,  disturbed 
and    excited.      What    could    possibly    have    occurred? 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  287 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  a  thought  of  the  real  state  of 
matters,  as  they  will  presently  be  disclosed,  never  for  an 
instant  crossed  my  mind.  I  longed — I  almost  sickened — 
for  the  promised  opportunity  of  being  alone  with  him. 
It  was  soon  afforded  me,  by  the  servants  appearing  at 
the  door,  and  announcing  the  carriage. 

"Oh,  dear,  positively  prayers  will  be  over!"  exclaimed 
Lady  Emma,  rising,  and  looking  hurriedly  at  her  watch, 
"we've  quite  forgotten  church-hours  !  Do  you  accompany 
us,  doctor?"  said  she,  looking  at  me. 

"No,  Emma,"  replied  Mr.  Stafford  quickly;  "you  and 
the   family  must  go   alone   this   morning — I   shall   stop 

and  keep  Dr.  company,  and  take  a  walk  over  the 

country  for  once."  Lady  Emma,  with  an  unsatisfied 
glance  at  both  of  us,  withdrew.  Mr.  Stafford  immedi- 
ately proposed  a  walk ;  and  we  were  soon  on  our  way 
to  a  small  Gothic  alcove  near  the  water-side. 

"Now,  doctor,  to  the  point,"  said  he  abruptly,  as  soon 
as  we  were  seated.  "Can  I  reckon  on  a  real  friend  in 
you?"  scrutinizing  my  features  closely. 

"Most  certainly  you  may,"  I  replied,  with  astonish- 
ment. "What  can  I  do  for  you? — Something  or  other  is 
wrong,  I  fear!    Can  I  do  anything  for  you  in  any  way?" 

"Yes,"  said  he  deliberately,  and  looking  fixedly  at 
me,  as  if  to  mark  the  effect  of  his  words ;  "I  shall  require 
a  proof  of  your  friendship  soon ;  I  must  have  your  ser- 
vices this  evening — at  seven  o'clock." 

"Gracious  Heaven,  Mr.  Stafford  ! — why — why — is  it 
possible  that — do  I  guess  right?"  I  stammered  almost 
breathless,  and  rising  from  my  seat. 

"O  doctor! — don't  be  foolish — excuse  me — but  don't, 
I  beg!  Pray  give  me  your  answer;  I'm  sure  you  under- 
stand my  question."  Agitation  deprived  me  for  a  while 
of  utterance. 

"I  beg  an  answer.  Dr. ,"  he  replied  coldly,  "as,  if 

you  refuse,  I  shall  be  very  much  inconvenienced.  'Tis 
but  a  little  affair — a  silly  business,  that  circumstances 
have  made  inevitable— I'm  sure  you  must  have  seen  a 
hint  at  it  in  the  last  night's  papers.    Don't  misunderstand 


288  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

me,"  he  proceeded,  seeing  me  continue  silent;  "I  don't 
wish  you  to  take  an  active  part  in  the  business — but  to 
be  on  the  spot,  and,  in  the  event  of  anything  unfortun- 
;ate  happening  to  me — to  hurry  home  here,  and  prepare 

■  Lady  Emma  and  the  family — that  is  all.     Mr.  G " 

(naming  a  well-known  army  surgeon)  "will  attend  pro- 
fessionally." I  was  so  confounded  with  the  suddenness 
of  the  application  that  I  could  do  nothing  more  than  mut- 
ter indistinctly  my  regret  at  what  had  happened. 

"Well,  Doctor ,"  he  continued  in  a  haughty  tone, 

"1  find  that,  after  all,  I  have  been  mistaken  in  my  man. 
I  own  I  did  not  expect  that  this — the  first  favor  I  have 
ever  asked  at  your  hands,  and,  possibly,  the  last — would 
have  been  refused.  But  I  must  insist  on  an  answer  one 
way  or  another;  you  must  be  aware  I've  no  time  to 
lose." 

"Mr.  Stafford — pardon  me — you  mistake  me!  Allow 
me  a  word ;  you  cannot  have  committed  yourself  rashly 
in  this  affair !  Consider  Lady  Emma — your  children " 

"I  have — I  have,"  he  answered,  grasping  my  hand, 
while  his  voice  faltered ;  "and  I  need  hardly  inform  you 
that  it  is  that  consideration  only  which  occasions  the  lit- 
tle disturbance  of  manner  you  may  have  noticed.  But 
you  are  a  man  of  the  world  enough  to  be  aware  that  I 
must  go  through  with  the  business.  I  am  not  the  chal- 
lenger." 

I  asked  him  for  the  particulars  of  the  affair.  It  origi- 
nated in  a  biting  sarcasm  which  he  had  uttered,  with 
reference  to  a  young  nobleman,  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, on  Friday  evening,  which  had  been  construed  into 
a  personal  affront,  and  for  which  an  apology  had  been  de- 
manded— mentioning  the  alternative,  in  terms  almost  ap- 
proaching to  insolence,  evidently  for  the  purpose  of  pro- 
voking him  into  a  refusal  to  retract  or  apologize. 

"It's  my  firm  persuasion  that  there  is  a  plot  among  a 
certain  party  to  destroy  me — to  remove  an  obnoxious 
member  from  the  House — and  this  is  the  scheme  they 
have  hit  upon!  I  have  succeeded,  I  find,  in  annoying  the 
interest  beyond  measure ;  and  so  they  must,  at  all 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  289 

events,  get  rid  of  me!  Ay,  this  cur  of  a  lordling  it  is,"  he 
continued  with  fierce  emphasis,  "who  is  to  make  my 
sweet  wife  a  widow,  and  my  children  orphans — for  Lord 

is  notoriously  one  of  the  best  shots  in  the  country  I 

Poor — poor  Emma !"  he  exclaimed  with  a  sigh,  thrust- 
ing his  hand  into  his  bosom,  and  looking  down  dejec- 
tedly. 

We  neither  of  us  spoke  for  some  time. 

"Would  to  Heaven  we  had  never  been  married!"  he 
resumed.  "Poor  Lady  Emma  leads  a  wretched  life  of 
it,  I  fear !  But  I  honestly  warned  her  that  my  life  would 
be  strewn  with  thorny  cares  even  to  the  grave's  brink !" 

"So  you  have  really  pitched  upon  this  evening — Sun- 
day evening,  for  this  dreadful  business?"  I  inquired. 

"Exactly.  We  must  be  on  the  spot  by  seven  precisely. 
I  say  we,  doctor,"  he  continued,  laying  his  hand  on  mine. 
I  consented  to  accompany  him.  "Come  now,  that's  kind ! 
I'll  remember  you  for  it.  *  *  It  is  now  nearly 
half-past  twelve,"  looking  at  his  watch,  "and  by  one,  my 

Lord  A ,"  mentioning  a  well-known  nobleman,  "is 

to  be  here ;  who  is  to  stand  by  me  on  the  occasion.  I 
wish  he  were  here ;  for  I've  added  a  codicil  to  my  will, 
and  want  you  both  to  witness  my  signature.  *  *  j 
look  a  little  fagged — don't  I?"  he  asked  with  a  smile.  I 
told  him  he  certainly  looked  rather  sallow  and  worn. 
"How  does  our  friend  walk  his  paces?"  he  inquired,  bar- 
ing his  wrist  for  me  to  feel  his  pulse.  The  circulation 
was  little,  if  at  all  disturbed,  and  I  told  him  so.  "It 
would  not  have  been  very  wonderful  if  it  had,  I  think ; 
for  I've  been  up  half  the  night — till  nearly  five  this  morn- 
ing— correcting  the  two  last  proof-sheets  of  my  speech  on 

the Bill,  which  is  publishing.    I  think  it  will 

read  well ;  at  least  I  hope  it  will,  in  common  justice  to  my- 
self, for  it  was  most  vilely  curtailed  and  misrepresented 
by  the  reporters.  By  the  way — would  you  believe  it? — 
Sir  's  speech  that  night  was  nothing  but  a  hun- 
dredth hash  of  mine,  which  I  delivered  in  the  House 
more  than  eight  years  ago!"  said  he,  with  an  eager  and 
contemptuous  air. 


290  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

I  made  him  no  reply ;  for  my  thoughts  were  too  sadly 
occupied  with  the  dreadful  communication  he  had  re- 
cently made  me.  I  abhorred,  and  do  abhor  and  despise 
duelling,  both  in  theory  and  practice ;  and  now  to  have 
to  be  present  at  one,  and  one  in  which  my  friend — such 
a  friend ! — was  to  be  a  principal.  This  thought,  and  a 
glance  at  the  possible,  nay,  probable  desolation  and 
broken-heartedness  which  might  follow,  was  almost  too 
much  for  me.  But  I  knew  Mr.  Stafford's  disposition  too 
well  to  attempt  expostulation — especially  in  the  evidently 
morbid  state  of  his  feelings. 

"Come,  come,  doctor,  let's  walk  a  little.  Your  feelings 
flag.  You  might  be  going  to  receive  satisfaction  your- 
self," with  a  bitter  sneer,  "instead  of  seeing  it  given  and 
taken  by  others.  Come,  cheer,  cheer  up."  He  put  his 
arm  in  mine,  and  led  me  a  few  steps  across  the  lawn, 
by  the  water-side.  "Dear,  dear  me !"  said  he  with  a 
chagrined  air,  pulling  out  his  watch  hastily,  "I  wish  to 

Heaven  my  Lord  A would  make  his  appearance.     I 

protest  her  ladyship  will  have  returned  from  church  be- 
fore we  have  settled  our  few  matters,  unless,  by  the  way, 

she  drives  round  by  Admiral 's,  as  she  talked  of  last 

night.  Oh,  my  God!  think  of  my  leaving  her  and  the 
girls  with  a  gay  air,  as  if  we  parted  but  for  an  hour,  when 
it  may  be  forever!    And  yet  what  can  one  do?" 

While  he  was  speaking,  my  eyes  caught  sight  of  a  ser- 
vant making  his  way  towards  us  rapidly  through  the 
shrubbery,  bearing  in  his  hands  a  letter,  which  he  put 
into  Stafford's  hands,  saying,  a  courier  had  brought  it 
that  moment,  and  was  waiting  to  take  an  answer  back 
to  town.     "Ah — very  good — let  him  wait  till  I  come," 

said  Mr.  Stafford.     "Excuse  me.  Doctor  ,"  bursting 

open  the  envelope  with  a  little  trepidation,  and  putting  it 
into  my  hands,  while  he  read  the  enclosed  note.  The 
envelope  bore  in  one  corner  the  name  of  the  premier,  and, 
in  the  other,  the  words  "private  and  confidential,"  and 
was  sealed  with  the  private  crest  and  coronet  of  the  earl. 

"Great  God  ! — read  it !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Stafford,  thrust- 
ing the  note  before  me,  and  elevating  his  eyes  and  hands 


\ 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  291 

despairingly.  Much  agitated  myself  at  witnessing  the 
effect  of  the  communication  on  my  friend,  I  took  it,  and 
read  nearly  as  follows: — "My  dear  Stafford — I  had  late 
last  night  his  Majesty's  commands  to  offer  to  you  the 

seals   of   the   office,    accompanied    with    the    most 

gracious  expressions  of  consideration  for  yourself  per- 
sonally, and  his  conviction  that  you  will  discharge  the 
important  duties  henceforth  devolving  upon  you,  with 
honor  to  yourself,  and  advantage  to  his  Majesty's  coun- 
cils. In  all  of  which,  I  need  hardly  assure  you, 
I  most  heartily  concur.  I  beg  to  add  that  I 
shall  feel  great  pride  and  pleasure  in  having  you 
for  a  colleague — and  it  has  not  been  my  fault 
that  such  was  not  the  case  earlier.  May  I  entreat 
your  answer  by  the  bearer's  return,  as  the  state  of  pub- 
lic affairs  will  not  admit  of  delay  in  filling  up  so  im- 
portant an  office?  I  beg  you  will  believe  me,  ever  yours, 
most  faithfully, . 

"Whitehall,  Sunday  noon, 
12  o'clock." 

After  hurriedly  reading  the  above,  I  continued  holding 
the  letter  in  my  hands,  speechlessly  gazing  at  Mr.  Staf- 
ford. Well  might  such  a  bitter  balk  excite  the  tumul- 
tuous conflict  of  passion  which  the  varying  features  of 
Mr.  Stafford — now  flushed — now  pale — too  truly  evi- 
denced. This  dazzling  proffer  made  him  only  a  few  hours 
before  his  standing  the  fatal  fire  of  an  accomplished 
duellist!  I  watched  him  in  silent  agony.  At  length  he 
clasped  his  hands  with  passionate  energy,  and  exclaimed 
—  "Oh!  madness  —  madness  —  madness!  —  Just  within 
reach  of  the  prize  I  have  run  for  all  my  life!"  At  that 
instant,  a  wherry,  full  of  bedizened  Londoners,  passed 
close  before  us,  on  their  way  towards  Richmond ;  and  I 
saw  by  their  whispers  that  they  had  recognized  Mr.  Staf- 
ford. He  also  saw  them,  and  exclaimed  to  me  in  a  tone 
I  shall  never  forget,  "Happy,  happy  fools !"  and  turned 
away  towards  the  house.  He  removed  his  arm  from 
mine,  and  stood  pondering  for  a  few  moments  with  his 
eye  fixed  on  the  grass. 


292  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"Doctor,  what's  to  be  done?" — he  almost  shouted,  turn- 
ing suddenly  to  me,  grasping  my  arm,  and  staring  va- 
cantly into  my  face.  I  began  to  fear  lest  he  should  to- 
tally lose  the  command  of  himself. 

"For  God's  sake, Mr. Stafford,  be  calm! — recollect  your- 
self!— or  madness — ruin — I  know  not  what — is  before 
you !"  I  said,  in  an  earnest  imploring  tone,  seeing  his 
eye  still  glaring  fixedly  upon  me.  At  length  he  succeeded 
in  overmastering  his  feelings.  "Oh ! — folly,  folly,  this ! 
Inevitable! — inevitable — "  he  exclaimed  in  a  calmer 
tone.  "But  the  letter  must  be  answered.  What  can  I 
say,  doctor?"  putting  his  arm  in  mine,  and  walking  up 
to  the  house  rapidly.  We  made  our  way  to  the  library, 
and  Mr.  Stafford  sat  down  before  his  desk.  He  opened 
his  portfeuille  slowly  and  thoughtfully.  "Of  course — de- 
cline 1"  said  he,  with  a  profound  sigh,  turning  to  me  with 
his  pen  in  his  hand. 

"No — assuredly,  it  would  be  precipitate.  Wait  for  the 
issue  of  this  sad  business.    You  may  escape." — "No — no 

■ — no !    My  Lord is  singularly  prompt  and  decisive 

in  all  he  does — especially  in  disposing  of  his  places.  I 
must — I  must — ay" — beginning  to  write — "I  must  re- 
spectfully decline — altogether.  But  on  what  grounds? 
O  God !  even  should  I  escape  to-day,  I  am  ruined  forever 
in  Parliament!  What  will  become  of  me?"  He  laid 
down  the  pen,  and  moved  his  hand  rapidly  over  his  face. 

"Why — perhaps  it  would  be  better.  Tell  his  lordship 
frankly  how  you  are  circumstanced." 

"Tut !"  he  exclaimed,  impetuously ;  "ask  him  for  peace- 
officers  !  a  likely  thing."  He  pressed  both  his  hands  on 
his  forehead,  leaning  on  his  elbows  over  the  desk.  A 
servant  that  moment  appeared,  and  said,  "Please,  sir,  the 
man  says  he  had  orders  not  to  wait  more  than  five  min- 
utes  " 

"Begone!  Let  him  wait,  sir!"  thundered  Mr.  Stafford 
— and  resumed  his  pen. 

"Can't  you  throw  yourself  on  his  lordship's  personal  . 

good  feeling  towards  you,  and  say  that  such  an  offer  re-  | 

quires   consideration — that   it   must   interfere   with,   and 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  293 

derange,  on  the  instant,  many  of  your  political  engage- 
ments— and  that  your  answer  shall  be  at  Whitehall  by — 
say  nine  o'clock  this  evening?  So  you  will  gain  time  at 
least." 

"Good.  'Twill  do — a  fair  plea  for  time  ;  but  I'm  afraid  !" 
said  he  mournfully;  and  taking  his  pen  he  wrote  off  an 
answer  to  that  effect.  He  read  it  to  me,  folded  it  up, 
sealed  it,  directed  it  in  his  usual  bold  and  flowing  hand ; 
I  rang  for  the  servant — and  in  a  few  moments  -.ve  saw  the 
courier  galloping  past  the  window. 

"Now,  doctor,  isn't  this  enough  to  madden  me?  O 
God !  it's  intolerable !"  said  he,  rising  and  approaching 
me — "my  glorious  prospects  to  be  darkened  by  this  speck 
— this    atom   of   puppyism — of   worthlessness" — naming 

Lord ,  his  destined  opponent.    "Oh — if  there  were — 

if    there    were"    he    resumed,    speaking    fiercely 

through  his  closed  teeth,  his  eyes  glaring  downwards, 
and  his  hands  clenched.  He  soon  relaxed.  "Well,  well ! 
it  can't  be  helped ;  'tis  inevitable —  Trdvrwr  'irkn^uTai  ravra 
KovK.  tK(pev^ETai  —  I     must    say    with    Medea.      Ah !  —  Lord. 

A at  last,"  he  said,  as  a  gentleman,  followed  by  his 

groom,  rode  past  the  window.  Li  a  few  moments  he  en- 
tered the  library.  His  stature  was  lofty,  his  features  com- 
manding, and  his  bearing  fraught  with  composure  and 
military  hauteur.  "Ah,  Stafford — good  morning!"  said  he 
approaching  and  shaking  him  warmly  by  the  hand  ;  "upon 
my  soul,  I'm  sorry  for  the  business  I'm  come  about." 

"I  can  symphathize  with  you,  I  think," replied  Mr.  Staf- 
ford calmly.    "My  Lord  allow  me — Dr. ."    I  bowed. 

"Fully  in  my  confidence — an  old  friend,"  he  whispered 

Lord  A ,  in  consequence  of  his  lordship's  inquisitive, 

suspicious  glance.  *  *  "Well,  you  must  teach  the 
presumptuous  puppy  better  manners  this  evening!"  said 
his  lordship,  adjusting  his  back  stock  with  an  indifferent 
air! 

"Ay ! — nothing  like  a  leaden  lesson,"  replied  Mr.  Staf- 
ford with  a  cold  smile. 

"For  a  leaden  head,  too,  by !"  rejoined  his  lordship 

quickly.   "We  shall  run  you  pretty  fair  through,  I  think ; 


294  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

for  we  have  determined  on  putting  you  up  at  six  paces." 

"Six    paces ! — why    we    shall    blow    one    another    to 

. !"     echoed     Mr.     Stafford,     with     consternation. 

'"Twould  be  rather  hard  to  go  there  in  such  bad  company, 
I  own.  Six  paces !"  continued  Mr.  Stafford ;  "how  could 
you  be  so  absurd  ! — It  will  be  deliberate  murder!" 

"Poh,  poh ! — never  a  bit  of  it,  my  dear  fellow — never 
a  bit  of  it ! — I've  put  many  up  at  that  distance — and,  be- 
lieve me,  the  chances  are  ten  to  two  that  both  miss." 

"Both  miss  at  six  paces?"  inquired  Mr.  Stafford  with 
an  incredulous  smile. 

"Ay!  both  miss,  I  say;  and  no  wonder  either.  Such 
contiguity ! — Egad,  'twould  make  a  statue  nervous !" 

"But,  A !  have  you  really  determined  on  putting 

us  up  at  six  paces?"  again  inquired  Mr.  Stafford  ear- 
nestly. 

"Most  unquestionably,"  replied  his  lordship  briskly; 
adding,  rather  coldly:  "I  flatter  myself,  Stafford,  that 
when  a  man's  honor  is  at  stake,  six  or  sixty  paces  are 
matters  equally  indifferent." 

"Ay,  ay,  A ,  I  dare  say,"  replied  Mr.  Stafford,  with 

a  melancholy  air;  "but  'tis  hard  to  die  by  the  hands  of  a 
puppy,  and  under  such  circumstances!  Did  you  not 
meet  a  man  on  horseback?" 

"Ay,  ay,"  replied  his  lordship  eagerly ;  "I  did — a  courier 
of  my  Lord  's,  and  thundering  townward  at  a  pro- 
digious rate.  Any  doings  there  between  you  and  the 
premier?" 

"Read!"  said  Mr.  Stafford,  putting  Lord  's  letter 

into  his  hand.  Before  his  lordship  had  more  than  half 
read  it,  he  let  it  fall  on  the  table,  exclaiming,  "Good  God ! 
was  there  ever  such  an  unfortunate  thing  in  the  world 
before! — Ha'n't  it  really  driven  you  mad,  Stafford?" 

"No,"   he   replied   with    a   sigh;   "the   thing   must   be 

borne !"    Lord  A walked  a  few  steps  about  the  room 

thoughfully,  with  energetic  gestures. 

"If— if  I  could  but  find  a  pretext — if  I  could  but  come 
across  the  puppy  in  the  interval — I'd  give  my  life  to  have 
a  shot  preparatory  with  him !"  he  muttered.   Mr.  Stafford 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  295 

smiled.    "While  I  think  of  it,"  said  he,  opening  his  desk, 

"here's  my  will.     I  wish  you  and  Dr.  to  see  me 

sign."    We  did — and  affixed  our  names. 

*****  ***** 

"By  the  way,"  said  his  lordship,  suddenly  addressing 
Mr.  Stafford,  who,  with  his  chin  resting  on  his  hands, 
and  his  features  wearing  an  air  of  intense  thought,  had 
been  silent  for  some  minutes,  "how  do  you  put  off  Lady 
Emma  to-day?    How  do  you  account  for  your  absence?" 

"Why,  I've  told  her  we  three  were  engaged  to  dinner 

at  Sir 's"  naming  a  neighboring  baronet.    "I'm  afraid 

it  will  kill  Lady  Emnta  if  I  fall,"  he  faltered,  while  the 
tears  rushed  to  his  eyes.  He  stepped  towards  the  de- 
canters, which  had,  a  little  while  before,  been  brought  in 
by  the  servant;  and,  after  asking  us  to  do  the  same, 
poured  out  a  glass,  and  drank  it  hastily — and  another — 
and  another. 

"Well,  this  is  one  of  the  saddest  affairs,  altogether, 
that  I  ever  knew,"  exclaimed  his  lordship.  "Stafford, 
I  feel  for  you  from  my  heart's  core — I  do !"  he  continued, 
grasping  him  affectionately  by  the  hand.  "Here's  to  your 
success  to-night,  and  God's  blessing  to  Lady  Emma !" 
Mr.  Stafford  started  suddenly  from  him,  and  walked  to 
the  window,  where  he  stood  for  a  few  minutes  in  silence. 
"Lady  Emma  is  returning,  I"  see,"  said  he,  approaching 
us.  His  features  exhibited  little  or  no  traces  of  agita- 
tion. He  poured  out  another  glass  of  wine,  and  drank  it 
off  at  a  draught,  and  had  hardly  set  down  the  glass  be- 
fore the  carriage-steps  were  heard  letting  down  at  the 
door.  Mr.  Stafford  turned  to  them  with  an  eye  of  agony 
as  his  lady  and  one  of  her  little  girls  descended. 

"I  think  we'd  perhaps  better  not  join  her  ladyship  be- 
fore our  setting  off,"  said  Lord  A ,  looking  anxiously 

at  poor  Stafford. 

"Oh,  but  we  will,"  said  he,  leading  to  the  door.  He 
had  perfectly  recovered  his  self-possession.  I  never  knew 
a  man  that  had  such  remarkable  command  of  face  and 
manner  as  Mr.  Stafford.  I  was  amazed  at  the  gay — al- 
most nonchalant — air  with  which  he  walked  up  to  Lady 


296  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

Emma — asked  her  about  the  sermon — whether  she  had 
called  at  Admiral  's — and  several  other  such  ques- 
tions. 

"Ah!  and  how  is  it  with  you,  my  little  Hebe — eh?" 
said  he,  taking  the  laughing  girl  into  his  arms,  laughing, 
tickling,  and  kissing  her,  with  all  a  father's  fondness.  I 
saw  his  heart  was  swelling  within  him :  and  the  touch- 
ing sight  brought,  with  powerful  force  to  my  recollection, 
a  similar  scene  in  the  Medea  of  Euripides,  where  the 
mother  is  wailing  over  the  "last  smile"  of  her  children. 
He  succeeded  in  betraying  no  painful  emotion  in  his 
lady's  presence ;  and  Lord  A took  good  care  to  en- 
gage her  in  incessant  conversation. 

"What  does  your  ladyship  say  to  a  walk  through  the 
grounds?"  said  he,  proffering  his  arm,  which  she  accepted, 
and  we  all  walked  out  together.  The  day  was  beauti- 
ful, but  oppressively  sultry,  and  we  turned  our  steps  to- 
wards the  plantations.  Mr.  Stafford  and  I  walked  to- 
gether, and  slipped  a  little  behind  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
versation. "I  shan't  have  much  opportunity  of  speaking 
with  you,  doctor,"  said  he,  "so  I'll  say  what  is  uppermost 
now.  Be  sure,  my  dear  doctor,  to  hurry  from  the  field 
— which  is  about  four  miles  from  my  house — to  Lady 
Emma,  in  the  event  of  my  being  either  killed  or  wounded, 
and  do  what  you  think  best  to  prepare  my  .wife  for  the 
event.    I  cannot  trust  her  to  better,  gentler  hands  than 

yours — ^my  old,  my  tried  friend ! You  know  where 

my  will  is — and  I've  given  directions  for  my  funeral." 

"O  dear,  dear  Stafford!"  I  interrupted  him,  moved  to 
tears,  "don't  speak  so  hopelessly !" 

"O  doctor — nonsense!  there's  no  disguising  matters 
from  one's  self.    Is  there  a  chance  for  me?     No;  I'm  a 

murdered  man ;  and  can  you  doubt  it?    Lord can  do 

only  one  thing  well  in  the  world,  and  that  is,  hit  his  man 
at  any  distance ;  and  then  six  paces  off  each  other !  Lord 
A may  say  what  he  likes ;  but  I  call  it  murder.  How- 
ever, the  absurd  customs  of  society  must  be  complied 
with! — I  hope,"  he  added  after  a  pause,  "that  when  the 
nine  days'  wonder  of  the  affair  shall  have  passed  off — if  I 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  297 

fall — when  the  press  shall  cease  its  lying  about  it — that 
my  friends  will  do  justice  to  my  memory.  God  knows  I 
really  love  my  country,  and  would  have  served  it ;  it  was 
my  ambition  to  do  so;  but  it's  useless  talking  now!  I 
am  excessively  vexed  that  this  affair  should  have  oc- 

cured  before  the question  comes  on,  in  preparation 

for  which  I  have  been  toiling  incessantly,  night  and  day, 

for  this  month  past.    I  know  that  great  expectations " 

At  that  instant.  Lord  A and  Lady  Emma  met  us, 

and  we  had  no  further  opportunity  of  conversing.  We 
returned  to  lunch  after  a  few  minutes'  longer  walk. 

"God  bless  you,  Emma!"  said  Mr.  Stafford,  nodding, 
with  an  affectionate  smile,  as  he  took  wine  with  his  lady. 
He  betrayed  no  emotion  throughout  the  time  we  sat  to- 
gether, but  conversed  long — and  often  in  a  lively  strain 
— on  the  popular  topics  of  the  day.  He  rang  for  his  valet, 
and  directed  him  to  have  his  toilet  ready,  and  to  order  the 
carriage  for  four  o'clock.  He  then  withdrew,  and,  in 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  time,  returned,  dressed  in  a 
blue  surtout  and  white  trousers.  He  was  a  very  hand- 
some, well-made  man,  and  seemed  dressed  with  particu- 
lar elegance,  I  thought. 

"Upon  my  honor,  Charles,  you  are  in  a  pretty  dinner- 
trim,"  said  Lady  Emma;  "and  all  of  you,  I  protest!"  she 
continued,  looking  round  with  surprise  at  our  walking- 
dress.  Mr.  Stafford  told  her,  with  a  laugh,  that  we  were 
going  to  meet  none  but  bachelors. 

"What! — why,  where  will  the  Miss s  be?" 

"Ordered  out,  my  lady,  for  the  day,"  replied  Lord 
A with  a  smile,  promptly,  lest  his  friend  should  hesi- 
tate :  "'tis  to  be  the  model  of  a  divan,  I  understand !" 

"Don't  be  late,  love!"  said  Lady  Emma  to  her  hus- 
band, as  he  was  drawing  on  his  gloves ;  "you  know  I've 
little  enough  of  you  at  all  times — don't — don't  be  late !" 

"No — no  later  than  I  can  help,  certainly!"  said  he, 
moving  to  the  door. 

"Say  eleven — will  you? — come,  for  once!" 

"Well — yes.      I    will    return    by    eleven,"    he    replied 


298  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

pointedly,  and  I  detected  a  little  tremulousness  in  his 
tone, 

"Papa !  papa !"  exclaimed  his  little  daughter,  running 
across  the  hall,  as  her  father  was  on  the  carriage  steps — 
"Papa!  papa!  may  I  sit  up  to-night  till  you  come  home?" 
He  made  no  reply,  but  beckoned  us  in  hurriedly — sat 
back  in  his  seat — thundered  "Drive  on,  sir!" — and  burst 
into  tears. 

"O  my  dear  fellow — Stafford — Stafford!  This  will 
never  do.  What  will  our  friends  on  the  ground  say?" 
inquired  Lord  A . 

"What  they  like!"  replied  Stafford  sternly,  still  in 
tears.     He  soon  recovered  himself. 

*        *     After  driving  some  time.     "Now,  let  me  give 

you  a  bit  of  advice,"  said  Lord  A in  an  earnest  tone : 

"we  shall  say  only  one  word,  by  way  of  signal — 'Fire,' 
and  be  sure  to  fire  while  you  are  in  the  act  of  raising 
your  pistol." 

"Oh,   yes — yes — yes — I    understand. " 

"Well,  but  be  sure;  don't  think  of  pointing  first,  and 

then  firing — or,  by  ,  you'll  assuredly  fire  over  his 

head,  or  fire  far  on  one  side.  Only  recollect  to  do  as  I 
say,  and  you  will  take  him  full  in  the  ribs,  or  clip  him  in 
the  neck,  or  at  least  wing  him." 

"My  dear  fellow,  do  you  take  me  for  a  novice?     Do 

you  forget  my  affair  with  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Stafford 

impatiently. 

"I  promised .  to  meet  G^ about  here,"  said   Lord 

A ,  putting  his  head  out  of  the  window.    "Egad,  if  he 

is  not  punctual,  I  don't  know  what  we  shall  do,  for  he's 
got  my  pistol-case.  Where — where  is  he?"  he  continued, 
looking  up  the  road.  "There!"  he  exclaimed,  catching 
sight  of  a  horseman  riding  at  a  very  slow  pace.     After 

we  had  overtaken  him,  and  Lord  A had  taken  the 

pistol-case  into  the  carriage,  and  Mr.  Stafford  had  him- 
self examined  the  pistols  carefully,  we  rode  side  by  side 
till  we  came  near  the  scene  of  action.  During  that  time, 
we  spoke  but  little,  and  that  little  consisted  of  the  most 
bitter  and  sarcastic  expressions  of  Mr.   Stafford's  con- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  299 

tempt  for  his  opponent,   and   regret  at  the  occurrence 

which  had  so  tantalized  him,  alluding  to  Lord 's  offer 

of   the   office.     About   ten    minutes    to   seven    we 

alighted,  and  gave  the  coachman  orders  to  remain  there 
till  we  returned.  The  evening  was  lovely — the  glare  of 
day  "mellowed  to  that  tender  light"  which  characterizes 
a  summer  evening  in  the  country.  As  we  walked  across 
the  fields  towards  the  appointed  spot,  I  felt  sick  and  faint 
with  irrepressible  agitation,  and  Mr.  G ,  the  sur- 
geon, with  whom  I  walked,  joked  with  me  at  my"squeam- 
ishness,"  much  in  the  style  of  tars  with  sea-sick  pas- 
sengers. "There's  nothing  in  it — nothing,"  said  he; 
"they'll  take  care  not  to  hurt  one  another.  'Tis  a  pity, 
too,  that  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Stafford  should  run  the  risk. 
What  a  noise  it  will  make!"  I  let  him  talk  on,  for  I  could 
not  answer,  till  we  approached  the  fatal  field,  which  we 

entered    by    a    gap.      Lord    A got    through    first. 

"Punctual,  however,"  said  he,  looking  round  at  Mr.  Staf- 
ford, who  was  following.  "There  they  are — just  getting 
over  the  stile.    Inimitable  coxcomb!" 

"Ay,  there  they  are,  sure  enough,"  replied  he,  shading 

his  eyes.     "A ,  for  God's  sake,  take  care  not  to  put 

me  against  the  sunshine — it  will  dazzle " 

"Oh,  never  fear!  it  will  go  down  before  then;  'tis  but 
just  above  the  horizon  now."  A  touching  image,  I 
thought!  It  might  be  so  with  Mr.  Stafford — his  "sun 
might  go  down — at  noon  !" 

"Stop,  my  lord,"  said  Mr.  Stafford,  motioning  Lord 

A back,  and  pressing  his  hand  to  his  forehead.     "A 

moment — allow  me!  Let  me  see — is  there  anything  I've 
forgot?  Oh,  I  thought  there  was!"  He  hurriedly  re- 
quested Lord  A ,  after  the  affair,  in  the  event  of  its 

proving  bloody,  to  call  on  the  minister  and  explain  it  all. 
Lord  A promised  to  do  so.  "Ah — here,  too,"  unbut- 
toning his  surtout:  "this  must  not  be  there,  I  suppose," 
and  he  removed  a  small  gold  snuff-box  from  his  right 
to  his  left  waistcoat  pocket.  "Let  the  blockhead  have 
his  full  chance." 

"Stuff,    stuff,    Stafford!     That's    quixotic!"    muttered 


300  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

Lord  A .     He  was  much  paler,  and  more  thoughtful 

than  I  had  seen  him  all  along.  All  this  occurred  in  much 
less  time  than  I  have  taken  to  tell  it.    We  all  passed  into 

the  field ;  and,  as  we  approached,  saw  Lord and  his 

second,  who  were  waiting  our  arrival.  The  appearance 
of  the  former  was  that  of  a  handsome,  fashionable  young- 
man,  with  very  light  hair,  and  lightly  dressed  altogether ; 
and  he  walked  to  and  fro,  switching  about  a  little  riding- 
cane.    Mr.  Stafford  released  Lord  A ,  who  joined  the 

other  second,  and  commenced  the  preliminary  arrange- 
ments. 

I  never  saw  a  greater  contrast  than  there  was  between 
the  demeanor  of  Mr.  Stafford  and  his  opponent.  There 
stood  the  former  his  hat  shading  his  eyes,  his  arms  folded, 
eyeing  the  motions  of  his  antagonist  with  a  look  of  su- 
preme— of  utter  contempt ;  for  I  saw  his  compressed  and 

curled   upper   lip.      Lord   betrayed    an    anxiety — a 

visible  effort  to  appear  unconcerned.  He  "overdid  it." 
He  was  evidently  as  uneasy  in  the  contiguity  of  Mr. 
Stafford,  as  the  rabbit  shivering  under  the  baleful  glare  of 
the  rattlesnake's  eye.  One  little  circumstance  was  full 
of  character  at  that  agitating  moment.  Lord  ,  anx- 
ious to  manifest  every  appearance  of  coolness  and  indif- 
ference, seemed  bent  on  demolishing  a  nettle,  or  some 
other  prominent  weed,  and  was  making  repeated  strokes 
at  it  with  the  little  whip  he  held.  This  a  few  seconds  be- 
fore his  life  was  to  be  jeoparded.  Mr.  Stafford  stood 
watching  this  puerile  feat  in  the  position  t  have  for- 
merly mentioned,  and  a  withering  smile  stole  over  his 
features,  while  he  muttered — if  I  heard  correctly — "Poor 
boy !  poor  boy !" 

At  length,  the  work  of  loading  being  completed,  and 
the  distance — six  paces — duly  stepped  out,  the  duelists 
walked  up  to  their  respective  stations.  Their  proximity 
was  perfectly  frightful.  The  pistols  were  then  placed  in 
their  hands,  and  we  stepped  to  a  little  distance  from 
them. 

"Fire!"  said  Lord  A ;  and  the  word  had  hardly 

passed  his  lips  before  Lord 's  ball  whizzed  close  past 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  301 

the  ear  of  Mr.  Stafford,  The  latter,  who  had  not  even 
elevated  his  pistol  at  the  word  of  command,  after  eyeing 
his  antagonist  for  an  instant  with  a  scowl  of  contempt, 
fired  in  the  air,  and  then  jerked  the  pistol  away  towards 

Lord  with  the  distinctly  audible  words — "Kennel, 

sir,  kennel!"     He  then  walked  towards  the  spot  where 

Mr.  G and  I  were  standing.    Would  to  heaven  he  had 

never  uttered  the  words  in  question!     Lord  had 

heard  them,  and  followed  him,  furiously  exclaiming:  "Do 
you  call  this  satisfaction,  sir?"  and,  through  his  second, 
insisted  on  a  second  interchange  of  shots.     In  vain  did 

Lord  A vehemently  protest  that  it  was  contrary  to 

all  the  laws  of  duelling,  and  that  he  would  leave  the 
ground.    They  were  inflexible.    Mr.  Stafford  approached 

Lord  A ,  and  whispered,   "For   God's   sake,  A , 

don't  hesitate.  Load — load  again !  The  fool  will  rush  on 
his  fate.  Put  us  up  again,  and  see  if  I  fire  a  second  time 
in  the  air !"  His  second  slowly  and  reluctantly  assented, 
and  reloaded.  Again  the  hostile  couple  stood  at  the  same 
distance  from  each  other,  pale  with  fury;  and  at  the  word 
of  command,  both  fired,  and  both  fell.  At  one  bound  I 
sprung  towards   Staft'ord,  almost  blind   with   agitation. 

Lord  A had  him  propped  against  his  knee,  and,  with 

his  white  pocket-handkerchief,  was  endeavoring  to  stanch 
a  wound  in  the  right  side.  Mr.  Stafford's  fire  had  done 
terrible  execution,  for  his  ball  had  completely  shattered 
the  lower  jaw  of  his  opponent,  who  was  borne  off  the 
field  instantly.  Mr.  Stafford  swooned,  and  it  was  some 
minutes  before  he  recovered,  when  he  exclaimed  feebly : 
"God  forgive  me,  and  be  with  my  poor  wife !"  We  at- 
tempted to  move  him,  when  he  swooned  a  second  time, 
and  we  were  afraid  it  was  all  over  with  him.  Again,  how- 
ever, he  recovered,  and,  opening  his  eyes,  he  saw  me  with 
my  fingers  at  his  pulse.    "Oh,  doctor!  doctor!  what  did 

you  promise?     Remember  Lady  Em "  he  could  not 

get  out  the  word.  I  waited  till  the  surgeon  had  ascer- 
tained generally  the  nature  of  the  wound,  which  he  pres- 
ently pronounced  not  fatal,  and  assisted  in  binding  it  up, 
and   conveying  him   to  the   carriage.     I   then   mounted 


302  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

G 's     horse,     and     hurried     on      to     communicate 

the  dreadful  intelHgence  to  Lady  Emma.  I  galloped 
every  step  of  the  way,  and  found,  on  my  arrival,  that  her 
ladyship  had,  but  a  few  moments  before,  adjourned  to  the 
drawing-room,  where  she  was  sitting  at  cofifee.  Thither 
I  followed  the  servant,  who  announced  me.  Lady  Emma 
was  sitting  by  the  tea-table,  and  rose  on  hearing  my 
name.  When  she  saw  my  agitated  manner,  the  color  sud- 
denly faded  from  her  cheeks.  She  elevated  her  arms,  as  if 
deprecating  my  intelligence;  and,  before  I  could  reach 
her,  had  fallen  on  the  floor. 

I  cannot  undertake  to  describe  what  took  place  on  that 
dreadful  night.  All  was  confusion — agony — despair.  Mr. 
Stafford  was  in  a  state  of  insensibility  when  he  arrived  at 
home,  and  was  immediately  carried  up  to  bed.  The  sur- 
geon succeeded  in  extracting  the  ball,  which  had  seri- 
ously injured  the  fifth  and  sixth  ribs,  but  had  not  pene- 
trated to  the  lungs.  Though  the  wound  was  serious,  and 
would  require  careful  and  vigilant  treatment,  there  was 
no  ground  for  apprehending  a  mortal  issue.  As  for  Lord 
,  I  may  anticipate  his  fate.  The  wound  he  had  re- 
ceived brought  on  lock-jaw,  of  which  he  died  in  less  than 
a  week.    And  this  is  what  is  called  satisfaction ! 

To  return : — All  my  attention  was  devoted  to  poor 
Lady  Emma.  She  did  not  even  ask  to  see  her  husband, 
or  move  to  leave  the  drawing-room,  after  recovering 
from  her  swoon.  She  listened,  with  apparent  calmness, 
to  my  account  of  the  transaction,  which,  the  reader  may 
imagine,  was  as  mild  and  mitigated  in  its  details  as  pos- 
sible. As  I  went  on  she  became  more  and 
more  thoughtful,  and  continued,  with  her  eyes 
fixed  on  the  floor,  motionless  and  silent.  In 
vain  did  I  attempt  to  rouse  her,  by  soothing — 
threats — surprise.  She  would  gaze  full  at  me,  and 
relapse  into  her  former  abstracted  mood.  At  length  the 
drawing-room    door    was    opened    by    some    one — who 

proved  to  be  Lord  A ,  come  to  take  his  leave.    Lady 

Emma  sprang  from  the  sofa,  burst  from  my  grasp,  ut- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  303 

tered  a  long,  loud,  and  frightful  peal  of  laughter,  and  then 
came  fit  after  fit  of  the  strongest  hysterics  I  ever  saw. 

*     *     About  midnight.  Dr.  Baillie  and  Sir arrived, 

and  found  their  patients  each  insensible,  and  each  in  dif- 
ferent apartments.  Alas !  alas !  what  a  dreadful  contrast 
between  that  hour  and  the  hour  of  my  arrival  in  the 
morning!  O  ambition!  O  political  happiness! — mock- 
ery! 

Towards  morning,  Lady  Emma  became  calmer,  and, 
under  the  influence  of  a  pretty  powerful  dose  of  lauda- 
num, fell  into  a  sound  sleep.     I  repaired  to  the  bedside 

of  Mr.  Stafford.     He  lay  asleep,  Mr.  G ,  the  surgeon, 

sitting  on  one  side  of  the  bed,  and  a  nurse  on  the  other. 
Yes,  there  lay  the  Statesman !  his  noble  features,  though 
overspread  with  a  pallid,  a  cadaverous  hue,  still  bearing 
the  ineffaceable  impress  of  intellect.  There  was  a  lofti- 
ness about  the  ample  expanded  forehead,  and  a  stern 
commanding  expression  about  the  partially  knit  eye- 
brows, and  pallid  compressed  lips,  which,  even  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  flashing  eye,  bespoke 

the  great  soul, 


Like  an  imprison'd   eagle,  pent  within, 
That  fain  would  fly! 

"On  what  a  slender  thread  hangs  everything  in  life !" 
thought  I,  as  I  stood  silently  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  gaz- 
ing on  Mr.  Stafford.  To  think  of  a  man  like  Stafford 
falling  by  the  hand  of  an  insignificant  lad  of  a  lordling — 
a  titled  bully !  Oh,  shocking  and  execrable  custom  of 
duelling! — blot  on  the  escutcheon  of  a  civilized  people! 
— which  places  greatness  of  every  description  at  the 
mercy  of  the  mean  and  worthless ;  which  lyingly  pre- 
tends to  assert  a  man's  honor  and  atone  for  insult,  by 
turning  the  tears  of  outraged  feeling  into  blood ! 

About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  (Monday),  I  set  off 
for  town,  leaving  my  friend  in  the  skilful  hands  of  Mr, 
G ,  and  promising  to  return,  if  possible,  in  the  even- 
ing. About  noon,  what  was  my  astonishment  to  hear 
street-criers  yelling  everywhere  a  "full,  true  and  particu- 
lar account  of  the  bloody  duel  fought  last  night  between 


304  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

Mr,  Stafford  and   Lord !"     Curiosity  prompted   me 

to  purchase  the  trash.  I  need  hardly  say  that  it  was  pre- 
posterous nonsense.  The  "duelists,"  it  seemed,  "fired 
six  shots  a-piece" — and  what  will  the  reader  imagine  were 
the  "dying"  words  of  Mr.  Stafford — according  to  these 
precious  manufacturers  of  the  marvelous? — "Mr.  Staf- 
ford then  raised  himself  on  his  second's  knee,  and  with 
a  loud  and  solemn  voice  said,  *I  leave  my  everlasting 

hatred  to  Lord ,  my  duty  to  my  king  and  country — 

my  love  to  my  family — and  my  precious  soul  to  God.'  " 

The  papers  of  the  day,  however,  gave  a  tolerably  accu- 
rate account  of  the  affair,  and  unanimously  stigmatized 

the  "presumption"  of  Lord in  calling  out  such  a  man 

as  Mr.  Stafford — and  on  such  frivolous  grounds.  My  name 
was,  most  fortunately,  not  even  alluded  to.  I  was  glanc- 
ing through  the  columns  of  the  evening  ministerial  paper, 
while  the  servant  was  saddling  the  horses  for  my  return 
to  the  country,  when  my  eye  lit  on  the  following  para- 
graph : — "Latest  News.  Lord is  appointed Sec- 
retary.   We  understand  that  Mr.  Stafford  had  the  refusal 

of  it."     Poor  Stafford !     Lord  A had  called  on  the 

minister,  late  on  Sunday  evening,  and  acquainted  him 
with  the  whole  affair.     "Sorry — very,"  said  the  premier. 

"Rising  man  that — but  we  could  not  wait.    Lord is 

to  be  the  man !" 

I  arrived  at  Mr.  Stafford's  about  nine  o'clock,  and  made 
my  way  immediately  to  his  bedroom.  Lady  Emma,  pale 
and  exhausted,  sat  by  his  bedside,  her  eyes  swollen  with 
weeping.  At  my  request  she  presently  withdrew,  and 
I  took  her  place  at  my  patient's  side.  He  was  not  sensi- 
ble of  my  presence  for  some  time,  but  lay  with  his  eyes 
half  open,  and  in  a  state  of  low  murmuring  delirium. 
An  unfortunate  cough  of  mine,  close  to  his  ear,  awoke 
him,  and,  after  gazing  steadily  at  me  for  nearly  a  minute, 
he  recognized  me  and  nodded.  He  seemed  going  to 
speak  to  me,  but  I  laid  my  finger  on  my  lips  to  warn  him 
against  the  effort. 

"One  word — one  only,  doctor,"  he  whispered  hastily — 
"Who  is  the  Secretary?"   "Lord  ,"   I   replied.     On 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  305 

hearing  the  name,  he  turned  his  head  away  from  me  with 
an  air  of  intense  chagrin,  and  lay  silent  for  some  time. 
He  presently  uttered  something  like  the  words — "too  hot 
to  hold  him" — "unseat  him" — and  apparently  fell  asleep. 
I  found,  from  the  attendant,  that  all  was  going  on  well, 
and  that  Mr,  Stafford  bade  fair  for  a  rapid  recovery,  if  he 
would  keep  his  mind  calm  and  easy.  Fearful  lest  my 
presence,  in  the  event  of  his  waking  again,  might  excite 
him  into  a  talking  mood,  I  slipped  silently  from  the  room 
and  betook  myself  to  Lady  Emma,  who  sat  awaiting 
me  in  her  boudoir.  I  found  her  in  a  flood  of  tears.  I  did 
all  in  my  power  to  soothe  her,  by  reiterating  my  solemn 
assurances  that  Mr.  Stafford  was  beyond  all  danger,  and 
wanted  only  quiet  to  recover  rapidly. 

"Oh,  Doctor !  how  could  you  deceive  me  so  yes- 
terday? You  knew  all  about  it!  How  could  you  look 
at  my  little  children,  and "  Sobs  choked  her  utter- 
ance. "Well — I  suppose  you  could  not  help  it.  I  don't 
blame  you — but  my  heart  is  nearly  broken  about  it !  Oh, 
this  honor — this  honor!  I  always  thought  Mr.  Stafford 
above  the  foolery  of  such  things !"  She  paused — I  re- 
plied not — for  I  had  not  a  word  to  say  against  what  she 
uttered.    I  thought  and  felt  with  her. 

"I  would  to  Heaven  that  Mr.  Stafford  would  forsake 
Parliament  for  ever  !  These  hateful  politics !  He  has  no 
peace  or  rest  by  day  or  night!"  continued  Lady  Emma, 
passionately.  "His  nights  are  constantly  turned  into 
day,  and  his  day  is  ever  full  of  hurry  and  trouble !  Heaven 
knows,  I  would  consent  to  be  banished  from  society — 
to  work  for  my  daily  bread — I  would  submit  to  any- 
thing, if  I  could  but  prevail  on  Mr.  Stafford  to  return  to 
the  bosom  of  his  family!  Doctor,  my  heart's  happiness 
is  cankered  and  gone !    Mr.  Stafford  does  but  tolerate  me 

— his  heart  is  not  mine — it  isn't ."     Again  she  burst 

into  tears. 

"What  can  your  ladyship  mean?"  I  inquired  with  sur- 
prise. 

"What  I  say,  doctor,"  she  replied,  sobbing.  "He  is 
wedded  to  ambition !  ambition  alone !     Oh !  I  am  often 


306  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

tempted  to  wish  I  had  never  seen  or  known  him  !  For  the 
future  I  shall  live  trembling  from  day  to  day,  fearful  of 
the  recurrence  of  such  frightful  scenes  as  yesterday;  his 
reason  will  be  failing  him — his  reason!"  she  repeated 
with  a  shudder,  "and  then !"  Her  emotion  once  more 
deprived  her  of  utterance.  I  felt  for  her  from  my  very 
soul !  I  was  addressing  some  consolatory  remark  to  her, 
when  a  gentle  tapping  was  heard  at  the  door.  "Come  in," 
said  Lady  Emma ;  and  Mr.  Stafford's  valet  made  his  ap- 
pearance, saying,  with  hurried  gestures  and  grimaces — 
"Ah,  Docteur !  Mons,  deraisonne — ill  est  fou !  II  veut 
absolument  voir  Milord — !  Je  ne  puis  lui  faire  passer 
cette  idee  la!" 

"What  can  be  the  matter!"  exclaimed  Lady  Emma, 
looking  at  me  with  alarm. 

"Oh,  only  some  little  wandering,  I  dare  say;  but  I'll 
soon  return  and  report  progress  1"  said  I,  prevailing  on 
her  to  wait  my  return,  and  hurrying  to  the  sick-chamber. 
To  my  surprise  and  alarm,  I  found  Mr.  Stafford  sitting 
nearly  bolt  upright  in  bed,  his  eyes  directed  anxiously  to 
the  door. 

"Dr. ,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  I  had  taken  my  seat  be- 
side him,  "I  insist  on  seeing  Lord  ,"  naming  the 

prime  minister;  "I  positively  insist  upon  it!  Let  his 
lordship  be  shown  up  instantly."  I  implored  him  to  lie 
down  at  the  peril  of  his  life,  and  be  calm — but  he  insisted 

on  seeing  Lord  .     "He  is  gone,  and  left  word  that 

he  would  call  at  this  time  to-morrow,"  said  I,  hoping  to 
quiet  him. 

"Indeed?  Good  of  him!  What  can  he  want?  The 
office  is  disposed  of.  There !  there !  he  has  stepped  back 
again !  Show  him  up — show  him  up !  What !  insult  the 
King's  Prime  Minister?  Show  him  up,  Louis,"  address- 
ing his  valet,  adding  drowsily,  in  a  fainter  tone,  "and  the 
members — the  members — the — the — who  paired  off — 
who  pair" — he  sank  gradually  down  on  the  pillow,  the 
perspiration  burst  forth,  and  he  fell  asleep.  Finding  he 
slept  on  tranquilly  and  soundly,  I  once  more  left  him, 
and  having  explained  it  to  Lady  Emma,  bade  her  good 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  307 

evening,  and  returned  to  town.  The  surgeon  who  was  in 
constant  attendance  on  him,  called  at  m^^  house  during 
the  afternoon  of  the  following  day,  and  gave  me  so  good 
an  account  of  him  that  I  did  not  think  it  necessary  to 
go  down  till  the  day  after,^as  I  had  seriously  broken  in 
upon  my  own  practice.  When  I  next  saw  him  he  was 
mending  rapidly.  He  even  persuaded  me  into  allowing 
him  to  have  the  daily  papers  read  to  him — a  circumstance 
I  much  regretted  after  I  left  him,  and  suddenly  recol- 
lected how  often  the  public  prints  made  allusions  to  him 
— some  of  them  not  very  kindly  or  complimentary.  But 
there  was  no  resisting  his  importunity.  He  had  a  won- 
derful wheedling  way  with  him. 

Two  days  after,  he  got  me  to  consent  to  his  receiving 
the  visits  of  his  political  friends ;  and  really  the  renewal 
of  his  accustomed  stimulus  conduced  materially  to  has- 
ten his  recovery. 

Scarcely  six  weeks  from  the  day  of  the  duel  was  this 
indefatigable  and  ardent  spirit,  Mr.  Stafford,  on  his  legs 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  electifying  it  and  the  nation 
at  large,  by  a  speech  of  the  most  overwhelming  power 
and  splendor!  He  flung  his  scorching  sarcasms  merci- 
lessly at  the  astounded  Opposition,  especially  at  those 
who  had  contrived  to  render  themselves  in  any  way 
prominent  in  their  opposition  to  his  policy  during  his  ab- 
sence! By  an  artful  manoeuvre  of  rhetoric — a  skillful 
allusion  to  "recent  unhappy  circumstances" — he 
carried  the  House  with  him,  from  the  very  com- 
mencement enthusiastically,  to  the  end,  and  was  at 
last  obliged  to  pause  almost  every  other  minute,  that  the 
cheering  might  subside.  The  unfortunate  nobleman  who 
had  stepped  into  the  shoes  which  had  been  first  placed  at 
Mr.  Stafford's  feet — so  to  speak — came  in  for  the  cream 
of  the  whole !  A  ridiculous  figure  he  cut !  Jokes,  sneers, 
lampoons,  fell  upon  him  like  a  shower  of  missiles  on  a 
man  in  the  pillory.  He  was  a  fat  man,  and  sat  perspir- 
ing under  it.  The  instant  Mr.  Stafford  sat  down,  this 
unlucky  personage  arose  to  reply.  His  odd  and  angry 
gesticulations,  as  he  vainly  attempted  to  make  himself 


308  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

heard  amidst  incessant  shouts  of  laughter,  served  to 
clinch  the  nail  which  had  been  fixed  by  Mr.  Stafford ;  and 
the  indignant  senator  presently  left  the  House.  Another 
— and  another — and  another  of  the  singed  ones,  arose  and 
"followed  on  the  same  side" ;  but  to  no  purpose.  It  was 
in  vain  to  buffet  against  the  spring-tide  of  favor  which 
had  set  in  to  Mr.  Stafford!  That  night  will  not  be  for- 
gotten by  either  his  friends  or  foes.  He  gained  his  point ! 
— within  a  fortnight  he  had  ousted  his  rival,  and  was 

gazetted Secretary! 

The  effort  he  made,  however,  on  the  occasion  last  al- 
luded to,  brought  him  again  under  my  hands  for  several 
days.  Indeed ;  I  never  had  such  an  intractable  patient ! 
He  could  not  be  prevailed  on  to  show  any  mercy  to  his 
constitution — he  would  not  give  nature  fair  play.  Night 
and  day — morning,  noon,  evening — spring,  summer, 
autumn,  winter — found  him  toiling  on  the  tempestuous 
ocean  of  politics,  his  mind  ever  laden  with  the  most  har- 
assing and  exhausting  cares.  The  eminent  situation  he 
filled,  brought  him,  of  course,  an  immense  accession  of 
cares  and  anxieties.  He  was  virtually  the  leader  of  the 
House  of  Commons ;  and,  though  his  exquisite  tact  and 
talent  secured  to  himself  personally  the  applause 
and  admiration  of  all  parties,  the  government  to 
which  he  belonged  was  beginning  to  disclose  symp- 
toms of  disunion  and  disorganization  at  the  time 
when  public  affairs  were  becoming  every  hour  more  and 
more  involved — our  domestic  and  foreign  policy  per- 
plexed— the  latter  almost  inextricably — every  day  as- 
suming a  new  and  different  aspect,  through  the  operation 
of  the  great  events  incessantly  transpiring  on  the  Con- 
tinent. The  national  confidence  began  rapidly  to  ebb 
away  from  the  ministers,  and  symptoms  of  a  most  start- 
ling character  appeared  in  different  parts  of  the  country. 
The  House  of  Commons — the  pulse  of  popular  feeling — 
began  to  beat  irregularly — now  intermitting — now  with 
feverish  strength  and  rapidity — clearly  indicating  that 
the  circulation  was  disordered.  Nearly  the  whole  of  the 
newspapers  turned  against  the  ministry  and  assailed  them 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  309 

with  the  bitterest  and  foulest  obloquy.  Night  after  night, 
poor  Mr.  Stafford  talked  himself  hoarse,  feeling  that  he 
was  the  acknowledged  mouthpiece  of  the  ministry;  but 
in  vain.  Ministers  were  perpetually  left  in  miserable 
minorities  ;  they  were  beaten  at  every  point.  Their  ranks 
presented  the  appearance  of  a  straggling,  disbanded 
army ;  those  of  the  Opposition  hung  together  like  a  ship- 
wrecked crew  clinging  to  the  last  fragments  of  their 
wreck.    Can  the  consequences  be  wondered  at? 

At  length  came  the  Budget — word  of  awful  omen  to 
many  a  quaking  ministry!  In  vain  were  the  splendid 
powers  of  Mr.  Stafford  put  into  requisition.  In  vain  did 
his  masterly  mind  fling  light  and  order  over  his  sombrous 
chaotic  subject,  and  simplify  and  make  clear  to  the  whole 
country,  the,  till  then,  dreary  jargon  and  mysticism  of 
financial  technicalities.  In  vain,  in  vain  did  he  display 
the  sweetness  of  Cicero,  the  thunder  of  Demosthenes. 
The  leader  of  the  Opposition  rose,  and  coolly  turned  all 
he  had  said  into  ridicule ;  one  of  his  squad  then  started 
to  his  feet,  and  made  out  poor  Mr.  Stafford  to  be  a  sort 
of  a  ministerial  swindler ;  and  the  rest  cunningly  gave  the 
cue  to  the  country,  and  raised  up  in  every  quarter  clamor- 
ous dissatisfaction.  Poor  Stafford  began  to  look  hag- 
gard and  wasted ;  and  the  papers  said  he  stalked  into  the 
House,  night  after  night,  like  a  spectre.  The  hour  of 
the  ministry  was  come.  They  were  beaten  on  the  first 
item,  in  the  committee  of  supply.  Mr.  Stafford  resigned, 
in  disgust  and  indignation ;  and  that  broke  up  the  gov- 
ernment. 

I  saw  him  the  morning  after  he  had  formally  tendered 
his  resignation,  and  given  up  the  papers  etc.  of  office. 
He  was  pitifully  emaciated.  The  fire  of  his  eye  was 
quenched,  his  sonorous  voice  broken.  I  could  scarcely 
repress  a  tear,  as  I  gazed  at  his  sallow,  haggard  features, 
and  his  languid  limbs  drawn  together  on  his  library  sofa. 

"Doctor — my  friend !  This  frightful  session  has  killed 
me,  I'm  afraid!"  said  he.  "I  feel  equally  wasted  in  body 
and  mind.    I  loathe  life — everything!" 


310  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"I  don't  think  you've  been  fairly  dealt  with !  You've 
been  crippled — shackled " 

"Yes — cursed — cursed — cursed  in  my  colleagues,"  he 
interrupted  me,  with  eager  bitterness ;  "it  is  their  exe- 
crable little-mindedness  and  bigotry  that  have  concen- 
trated on  us  the  hatred  of  the  nation.  As  for  myself,  I  am 
sacrificed  to  no  purpose.  I  feel  I  cannot  long  survive  it ; 
for  I  am  withered,  root  and  branch — withered!" 

"Be  persuaded,  Mr.  Stafford,"  said  I  gently,  "to  with- 
draw for  a  while  and  recruit." 

"Oh,  ay,  ay — any  whither — any  whither — as  far  of?  as 
possible  from  London — that's  all.  God  pity  the  man  that 
holds  office  in  these  times !  The  talents  of  half  the  angels 
in  heaven  wouldn't  avail  him !  Doctor,  I  rave.  Forgive 
me — I'm  in  a  morbid,  nay,  almost  rabid  mood  of  mind. 
Foiled  at  every  point — others  robbing  me  of  the  credit  of 
my  labors — sneered  at  by  fools — trampled  on  by  the  aris- 
tocracy— oh !  tut,  tut,  tut — fie  on  it  all !" 

*****  ***** 

"Have  you  seen  the  morning  papers,  Mr.  Stafford?" 

"Not  I,  indeed.  Sick  of  their  cant — lies — tergiver- 
sation— scurrility.  Fve  laid  an  embargo  on  them  all.  I 
won't  let  one  come  to  my  house  for  a  fortnight.  'Tis  add- 
ing fuel  to  the  fire  that  is  consuming  me." 

"Ah,  but  they  represent  the  nation  as  calling  loudly  for 
your  reinstatement  in  office." 

"Faugh — let  it  call !  Let  them  lie  on !  I've  done  with 
them — for  the  present,  at  least." 

The  servant  brought  up  the  cards  of  several  of  his  late 
colleagues.  "Not  at  home,  sirrah  ! — Harkee — -ill — ill," 
thundered  his  master.  I  sat  with  him  nearly  an  hour 
longer.  Oh,  what  gall  and  bitterness  tinctured  every 
word  he  uttered !  How  this  chafed  and  fretted  spirit 
spurned  at  sympathy,  and  despised — even  acquiescence ! 
He  complained  heavily  of  perfidy  and  ingratitude  on  the 
part  of  many  members  of  the  House  of  Commons ;  and 
expressed  his  solemn  determination — should  he  ever  re- 
turn to  power — to  visit  them  with  his  signal  vengeance. 
His  eyes  flashed  fire  as  he  recounted  the  instance  of  one 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN         311 

well-known  individual,  whom  he  had  paid  heavily  be- 
forehand for  his  vote,  by  a  sinecure,  and  by  whom  he  was, 
after  all,  unblushingly  "jockeyed,"  on  the  score  of  the 
salary  being  a  few  pounds  per  annum  less  than  had  been 
calculated  on!  "Oh,  believe  me,"  he  continued,  "of  all 
knavish  trafficking,  there  is  none  like  your  political 
tiafficking;  of  all  swindlers,  your  political  swindler  is 
the  vilest."  Before  I  next  saw  him,  the  new  ministry  had 
been  named,  some  of  the  leading  members  of  which  were 
among  Mr.  Stafford's  bitterest  and  most  contemptuous 
enemies,  and  had  spontaneously  pledged  themselves  to 
act  diametrically  opposite  to  the  policy  he  had  adopted. 
This  news  was  too  much  for  him  ;  and,  full  of  unutterable 
fury  and  chagrin,  he  hastily  left  town,  and,  with  all  his 
family,  betook  himself,  for  an  indefinite  period,  to  a  dis- 
tant part  of  England.  I  devoutly  hoped  that  he  had  now 
had  his  surfeit  of  politics,  and  would  henceforth  seek  re- 
pose in  the  domestic  circle.  Lady  Emma  participated 
anxiously  in  that  wish ;  she  doted  on  her  husband  more 
fondly  than  ever;  and  her  faded  beauty  touchingly  told 
with  what  deep  devotion  she  had  identified  herself  with 
her  husband's  interests. 

As  I  am  not  writing  a  life  of  Mr.  Stafford,  I  must  leap 
over  a  further  interval  of  twelve  anxious  and  agitating 
years.  He  returned  to  Parliament,  and,  for  several  ses- 
sions, shone  brilliantly  as  the  leader  of  the  Opposition. 
Being  freed  from  the  trammels  of  office,  his  spirits  re- 
sumed their  wonted  elasticity,  and  his  health  became 
firmer  than  it  had  been  for  years ;  so  that  there  was  little 
necessity  for  my  visiting  him  on  any  other  footing  than 
that  of  friendship. 

A  close  observer  could  not  fail  to  detect  the  system 
of  Mr.  Stafford's  parliamentary  tactics.  He  subordinated 
everything  to  accomplish  the  great  purpose  of  his  life. 
He  took  every  possible  opportunity,  in  eloquent  and  bril- 
liant speeches,  of  familiarizing  Parliament,  and  the  coun- 
try at  large,  with  his  own  principles;  dexterously  con- 
trasting with  them  the  narrow  and  inconsistent  policy 
of  his  opponents.     He  felt  that  he  was  daily  increasing 


312  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

the  number  of  his  partisans,  both  in  and  out  of  the  House 
— and  securing  a  prospect  of  his  speedy  return  to  per- 
manent power.  I  one  day  mentioned  this  feature,  and 
told  him  I  admired  the  way  in  which  he  gradually  in- 
sinuated himself  into  the  confidence  of  the  country. 

"Aha,  doctor!" — he  replied  briskly — "to  borrow  one 
of  your  own  terms — I'm  vaccinating  the  nation!" 

July — ,  18 — . — The  star  of  Stafford  again  Lord  of  the 

Ascendant!    This  day  have  the  seals  of  the  office 

been  intrusted  to  my  gifted  friend,  Stafford,  amid  the 
thunders  of  the  Commons,  and  the  universal  gratulations 
of  the  country.  He  is  virtually  the  leader  of  the  cabinet, 
and  has  it  "all  his  own  way"  with  the  House.  Every  ap- 
pearance he  makes  there  is  the  signal  for  a  perfect  tem- 
pest of  applause — ^with,  however,  a  few  lightning  gleams 
of  inveterate  hostility.  His  course  is  full  of  dazzling  dan- 
gers. There  are  breakers  ahead — he  must  tack  about 
incessantly  amid  shoals  and  quicksands.  God  help  him 
and  give  him  calmness  and  self-posession — or  he  is  lost ! 

I  suppose  there  will  be  no  getting  near  him,  at  least  to 
such  an  insignificant  person  as  myself — unless  he  should 
unhappily  require  my  professional  services.  How  my 
heart  beats  when  I  hear  it  said  in  society,  that  he  seems 
to  feel  most  acutely  the  attacks  incessantly  made  on  him 
— and  appears  ill  every  day !  Poor  Stafford !  I  wonder 
how  Lady  Emma  bears  all  this ! 

I  hear  everywhere,  that  a  tremendous  opposition  is  or- 
ganizing, countenanced  in  very  high  quarters,  and  that 
he  will  have  hard  work  to  maintain  his  ground.  He  is 
paramount  at  present,  and  laughs  his  enemies  to  scorn! 
His  name,  coupled  with  almost  idolatrous  expressions  of 
homage,  is  in  every  one's  mouth  of  the  variiim  et  miitabilc 
semper !  His  pictures  are  in  every  shop  window ;  dinners 
are  given  him  every  week ;  addresses  forwarded  from  all 
parts  of  the  country ;  the  freedom  of  large  cities  and  cor- 
porations voted  him ;  in  short,  there  is  scarcely  anything 
said  or  done  in  public,  but  Mr.  Stafford's  name  is  coupled 
with  it. 

March  — ,  18 — . — Poor  Stafford,  baited  incessantly  in 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  313 

the  House,  night  after  night.  Can  he  stand?  everybody 
is  asking.  He  had  commenced  the  session  swimmingly — 
as  the  phrase  is.  Lady  Emma,  whom  I  accidentally  met 
to-day  at  the  house  of  a  patient — herself  full  of  feverish 
excitement — gives  me  a  sad  account  of  Mr.  Stafford. 
Restless  nights — incessant  sleep-talking — ^continual  in- 
disposition— loss  of  appetite  ! 

Oh,  the  pleasures  of  politics,  the  sweets  of  ambition ! 

Saturday. — A  strange  hint  in  one  of  the  papers  to-day 
about  Mr.  Stafford's  unaccountable  freaks  in  the  House, 
and  treatment  of  various  members.  What  can  it  mean? 
A  fearful  suspicion  glanced  across  my  mind — Heaven 
grant  that  it  may  be  groundless ! — on  coupling  with  this 
dark  newspaper  hint  an  occurrence  which   took   place 

some  short  time  ago.  It  was  this :  Lady  Amelia was 

suddenly  taken  ill  at  a  ball  given  by  the  Duke  of ,  and 

I  was  called  in  to  attend  her.  She  had  swooned  in  the 
midst  of  the  dance,  and  continued  hysterical  for  some 
time  after  her  removal  home.  I  asked  her  what  had  oc- 
casioned it  all — and  she  told  me  that  she  happened  to 
be  passing,  in  the  dance,  a  part  of  the  room  where  Mr. 
Stafford  stood,  who  had  looked  in  for  a  few  minutes  to 

speak  to  the  Marquis  of  .     "He  was  standing  in  a 

thoughtful  attitude,"  she  continued,  "and,  somehow  or 
other,  I  attracted  his  attention  in  passing,  and  he  gave 
me  one  of  the  most  fiendish  scowls,  accompanied  with  a 
frightful  glare  of  the  eye,  I  ever  encountered.  It  passed 
from  his  face  in  an  instant,  and  was  succeeded  by  a  smile, 
as  he  nodded  repeatedly  to  persons  who  saluted  him. 
The  look  he  gave  me  haunted  me,  and,  added  to  the  ex- 
haustion I  felt  from  the  heat  of  the  room,  occasioned  my 
swooning."  Though  I  felt  faint  at  heart  while  listening 
to  her,  I  laughed  it  off,  and  said  it  must  have  been  fancy. 
"No,  no,  doctor,  it  was  not,"  she  replied,  "for  the  Mar- 
chioness of saw  it  too,  and  no  later  than  this  very 

morning,  when  she  called,  asked  me  if  I  had  affronted  Mr. 
Stafford." 

Could  it  be  so?  Was  this  "look"  really  a  transient, 
ghastly  out-flashing  of  insanity?    Was  his  great  mind  be- 


314  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

ginning  to  stagger  under  the  mighty  burden  it  bore? 
The  thought  agitated  me  beyond  measure.  When  I 
coupled  the  incident  in  question  with  the  mysterious  hint 
in  the  daily  paper,  my  fears  were  awfully  corroborated. 
I  resolved  to  call  upon  Mr.  Stafford  that  very  evening. 
I  was  at  his  house  about  eight  o'clock,  but  found  he  had 
left  a  little  while  before  for  Windsor.  The  next  morn- 
ing, however — Sunday — his  servant  brought  me  word 
that  Mr.  Stafford  would  be  glad  to  see  me  between  eight 
and  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening.  Thither,  therefore,  I  re- 
paired about  half-past  eight.  On  sending  up  my  name, 
his  private  secretary  came  down-stairs,  and  conducted  me 
to  the  minister's  library — a  spacious  and  richly  furnished 
room.  Statues  stood  in  the  window-places,  and  busts  of 
British  statesmen  in  the  four  corners.  The  sides  were 
lined  with  book-shelves,  filled  with  elegantly  bound  vol- 
umes; and  a  large  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room  was 
covered  with  tape-tied  packets,  opened  and  unopened 
letters,  etc.  A  large  bronze  lamp  was  suspended  from 
the  ceiling,  and  threw  a  peculiarly  rich  and  mellow  light 
over  the  whole — and  especially  the  figure  of  Mr.  Stafford, 
who,  in  his  long  crimson  silk  dressing  gown,  was  walking 
rapidly  to  and  fro,  with  his  arms  folded  on  his  breast. 
The  first  glance  showed  me  that  he  was  laboring  under 
high  excitement.  His  face  was  pale,  and  his  brilliant 
eyes  glanced  restlessly  from  beneath  his  intensely  knit 
brows. 

"My  dear  doctor,  an  age  since  I  saw  you !  Here  I  am, 
overwhelmed,  you  see,  as  usual !"  said  he,  cordially  taking 
me  by  the  hand,  and  leading  me  to  a  seat.  "My  dear  sir, 
you  give  yourself  no  rest — you  are  actually — you  are 
rapidly  destroying  yourself!"  said  I,  after  he  had,  in 
his  own  brief,  energetic,  and  pointed  language,  described 
a  train  of  symptoms  bordering  on  those  of  brain-fever. 

He  had,  unknown  to  any  one,  latterly  taken  to  opium, 
which  he  swallowed  by  stealth,  in  large  quantities,  on 
retiring  to  bed ;  and  I  need  hardly  say  how  that  of  itself 
was  sufficient  to  derange  the  functions  both  of  body  and 
mind.    He  had  lost  his  appetite,  and  felt  consciously  sink- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN.  315 

ing-  every  day  into  a  state  of  the  utmost  languor  and  ex- 
haustion— so  much  so,  that  he  was  reluctant  often  to  rise 
and  dress,  or  go  out.  His  temper,  he  said,  began  to  fail 
him,  and  he  grew  fretful  and  irritable  with  everybody, 
and  on  every  occasion.  "Doctor,  doctor !  I  don't  know 
whether  you'll  understand  me  or  not — but  everything 
glares  at  me!"  said  he.  "Every  object  grows  suddenly 
invested  with  personality — animation ;  I  can't  bear  to 
look  at  them !  I  am  oppressed,  I  breathe  a  rarefied  at- 
mosphere !" — "Your  nervous  system  is  disturbed,  Mr. 
Stafford." — "I  live  in  a  dim  dream,  with  only  occasional 
intervals  of  real  consciousness.  Everything  is  false  and 
exaggerated  about  me.  I  see,  feel,  think,  through  a  mag- 
nifying medium ;  in  a  word,  I'm  in  a  strange,  unac- 
countable, terrible  state." 

"Can  you  wonder  at  it,  even  if  it  were  worse?"  said  I, 
expostulating  vehemently  with  him  on  his  incessant,  un- 
mitigating  application  to  public  business.  "Believe  me," 
I  concluded  with  energy,  "you  must  lie  by,  or  be  laid  by." 

"Ah — good,  that — terse!  But  what's  to  be  done? 
Must  I  resign?  Must  public  business  stand  still  in  the 
middle  of  the  session!  I've  made  my  bed,  and  must  lie 
on  it." 

I  really  was  at  a  loss  what  to  say.  He  could  not  bear 
"preaching"  or  "posing,"  or  anything  approaching  to  it. 
I  suffered  him  to  go  on  as  he  would — detailing  more  and 
more  symptoms  like  those  above  mentioned ;  clearly 
enough  disclosing  to  my  reluctant  eyes,  reason  holding 
her  reins  loosely,  unsteadily. 

"I  can't  account  for  it,  doctor ;  but  I  feel  sudden  fits  of 
wildness  sometimes — but  for  a  moment,  however — a  sec- 
ond ! — O  my  Creator!  I  hope  all  is  yet  sound  here, 
here !"  said  he,  pressing  his  hand  against  his  forehead. 
He  rose,  and  walked  rapidly  to  and  fro.  "Excuse  me,  doc- 
tor, I  cannot  sit  still !"  said  he.  *  *  "Have  I  not 
enough  to  upset  me? — Only  listen  to  a  tithe  of  my  trou- 
bles, now ! — After  paying  almost  servile  court  to  a  parcel 
of  Parliamentary  puppies,  ever  since  the  commencement 
of  the  session,  to  secure  their  votes  on  the Bill ;  hav- 


316  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

ing  the  boobies  here  to  dine  with  me,  and  then  dining 
with  them,  week  after  week ;  sitting  down  gaily  with  fel- 
lows whom  I  utterly,  unutterably  despise — every  one 
of  the  pack  suddenly  turned  tail  on  me — stole,  stole,  stole 
away — every  one — and  left  me  in  a  ridiculous  minority  of 
43 !"  I  said  it  was  a  sample  of  the  annoyances  inseparable 
from  office.  "Ay,  ay,  ay !"  he  replied  with  impetuous  bit- 
terness, increasing  the  pace  at  which  he  was  walking. 
"Why,  why  is  it,  that  public  men  have  no  principle,  no 
feeling,  no  gratitude,  no  sympathy?"  He  paused.  I 
said,  mildly,  that  I  hoped  the  throng  of  the  session  was 
nearly  got  through,  that  his  embarrassments  would  dim- 
inish, and  he  would  have  some  leisure  on  his  hands. 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no! — my  difficulties  and  perplexities  in- 
crease and  thicken  on  every  side !  Great  heavens !  how 
are  we  to  get  on?  All  the  motions  of  government  are 
impeded ;  we  are  hemmed  in — blocked  up  on  every  side 
— the  state  vessel  is  surrounded  with  closing,  crashing 
icebergs !  I  think  I  must  quit  the  helm !  Look  here,  for 
instance :  after  ransacking  all  the  arts  and  resources  of 
diplomacy,  I  had,  with  infinite  difficulty,  succeeded  in 

devising  a  scheme  for  adjusting  our  differences. 

Several  of  the  Continental  powers  have  acquiesced ;  all 
was  going  on  well ;  when,  this  very  morning,  comes  a 
courier  to  Downing  Street,  bearing  a  civil  hint  from  the 
Austrian  cabinet,  that,  if  I  persevered  with  my  project, 
such  a  procedure  would  be  considered  equivalent  to  a 
declaration  of  war !  So  there  we  are  at  a  dead  stand !  'Tis 
all  that  execrable  Metternich !  Subtle  devil !  He's  at 
the  bottom  of  all  the  disturbances  in  Europe!  Again — 
here  at  home,  we  are  all  on  our  backs !    I  stand  pledged 

to  the Bill.    I  will,  and  must  go  through  with  it.    My 

consistency,   popularity,   place — all    are    at   stake!      I'm 

bound  to  carry  it !  and  only  yesterday  the ,  and , 

and  families — 'gad !   half  the   upper   House — have 

given  me  to  understand   I   must  give  up  them  or   the 

Bill!    And    then    we    are    all    at    daggers-drawn 

among    ourselves — a     cabinet-covmcil     like     a     cockpit, 

and    eternally    bickering!    And    again:    last 


,  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  317 

night  his  Majesty  behaved  with  marked  coolness 
and  hauteur:  and  while  sipping  his  claret,  told 
me    with    stern    sang-froid,    that    his    consent    to    the 

Bill    was   'utterly   out   of   the    question.'     I    must 

throw  overboard  the ,  a  measure  that  I  have  more  at 

heart  than  any  other!  It  is  whispered  that  is  de- 
termined to  draw  me  into  a  duel ;  and,  as  if  all  this  were 
not  enough,  I  am  perpetually  receiving  threats  of  assas- 
sination; and,  in  fact,  a  bullet  hissed  close  past  my  hat 

the  other  day,  while  on  horseback,  on  my  way  to  ! 

I  can't  make  the  thing  public — 'tis  impossible ;  and  per- 
haps the  very  next  hour  I  move  out,  I  may  be  shot 
through  the  heart!  O  God!  what  is  to  become  of  me? 
Would  to  heaven  I  had  refused  the  seals  of  the of- 
fice. Doctor,  do  you  think — the  nonsense  of  medicine 
apart — do  you  think  you  can  do  anything  for  me?  Any- 
thing to  quiet  the  system — to  cool  the  brain?  Would 
bleeding  do? — Bathing? — What?  But  mind  I've  not 
much  time  for  physic ;  I'm  to  open  the question  to- 
morrow night ;  and  then  every  hour  to  dictate  fifteen  or 
twenty  letters.    In  a  word " 

"Lord  ,  sir,"  said  the  servant,  appearing  at  the 

door. 

"Ah,  execrable  coxcomb !"  he  muttered  to  me.  "I 
know  what  he  is  come  about — he  has  badgered  me  inces- 
santly for  the  last  six  weeks !  I  won't  see  him.  Not  at 
home !"  he  called  out  to  the  servant.  He  paused.  "Stay, 
sirrah ! — beg  his  lordship  to  walk  up-stairs,"  Then  to 
me — "The  man  can  command  his  two  brothers'  votes — I 
must  have  them  to-morrow  night.  Doctor,  we  must  part," 
hearing  approaching  footsteps.  "I've  been  raving  like  a 
madman,  I  fear — but  not  a  word  to  any  one  breathing. 
Ah,  my  lord  !  good-evening — good-evening !"  said  he  with 
a  gaiety  and  briskness  of  tone  and  manner  that  utterly 
confounded  me — walking  and  meeting  his  visitor  half 
way,  and  shaking  him  by  the  hands.  Poor  Stafford !  I  re- 
turned to  my  own  quiet  home,  and  devoutly  thanked  God, 
who  had  shut  me  out  from  such  splendid  misery  as  I 
witnessed  in  the  Right  Honorable  Charles  Stafford. 


318  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

Tuesday.— ^Poor  Stafford  spoke  splendidly  in  the 
House,  last  night,  for  upwards  of  three  hours ;  and,  at 
the  bottom  of  the  reported  speech,  a  note  was  added,  in- 
forming the  reader,  that  "Mr.  Stafford  was  looking  better 
than  they  had  seen  him  for  some  months,  and  seemed  to 
enjoy  excellent  spirits."  How  little  did  he  who  penned 
that  note  suspect  the  true  state  of  matters — that  Mr. 
Stafford  owed  his  "better  looks"  and  "excellent  spirits" 
to  an  intoxicating  draught  of  raw  brandy,  which  alone 
enabled  him  to  face  the  House!  I  read  his  speech  with 
agonizing  interest ;  it  was  full  of  flashing  fancy,  and  pow- 
erful argumentative  eloquence,  and  breathed  throughout 
a  buoyant,  elastic  spirit,  which  nothing  seemed  capable 
of  overpowering  or  depressing.  But  Mr.  Stafford  might 
have  saved  his  trouble  and  anxiety — for  he  was  worsted, 
and  his  bill  lost  by  an  overwhelming  majority !  Oh ! 
could  his  relentless  opponents  have  seen  but  a  glimpse 
of  what  I  had  seen,  they  would  have  spared  their  noble 
victim  the  sneers  and  railleries  with  which  they  pelted 
him  throughout  the  evening. 

Friday. — I  this  afternoon  had  an  opportunity  of  con- 
versing confidentially  with  Mr.  Stafford's  private  secre- 
tary, who  corroborated  my  worst  fears,  by  communicat- 
ing his  own,  and  their  reasons,  amounting  to  infallible 
evidence,  that  Mr.  Stafford  was  beginning  to  give  forth 
scintillations  of  madness.  He  would  sometimes  totally 
lose  his  recollection  of  what  he  had  done  during  the  day, 
and  dictate  three  answers  to  the  same  letter.  He  would, 
at  the  public  office,  sometimes  enter  into  a  strain  of  con- 
versation with  his  astounded  underlings,  so  absurd  and 
imprudent — disclosing  the  profoundest  secrets  of  state — 
as  must  have  inevitably  and  instantly  ruined  him,  had 
he  not  been  surrounded  by  those  who  were  personally  at- 
tached to  him.     Mr.  communicated  various  other 

little  symptoms  of  the  same  kind.  Mr.  Stafford  was 
once  on  his  way  down  to  the  House  in  his  dressing-gown, 
and  could  be  persuaded  with  the  utmost  difficulty  only  to 
return  and  change  it.  He  would  sometimes  go  down  to 
his  country  house,  and  receive  his  lady  and  children  with 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  319 

such  an  extravagant — such  a  frantic — display  of  spirit  and 
gaiety,  as  at  first  delighted,  then  surprised,  and  finally 
alarmed  Lady  Emma  into  a  horrid  suspicion  of  the  real 
state  of  her  husband's  mind. 

I  was  surprised  early  one  morning  by  his  coachman's 
calling  at  my  house,  ana  desiring  to  see  me  alone ;  and, 
when  he  was  shown  into  my  presence,  with  a  flurried 
manner,  many  apologies  for  his  "boldness,"  and  entreat- 
ies— somewhat  Hibernian,  to  be  sure,  in  the  wording — 
that  I  "would  take  no  notice  whatever  of  what  he  said," 
he  told  me  that  his  master's  conduct  had  latterly  been 
"very  odd  and  queer-like."  That,  on  getting  into  his  car- 
riage, on  his  return  from  the  House,  Mr,  Stafford  would 
direct  him  to  drive  five  or  six  miles  into  the  country,  at  the 
top  of  his  speed — then  back  again — then  to  some  distant 
part  of  London — without  once  alighting,  and  with  no  ap- 
parent object ;  so  that  it  was  sometimes  five  or  six,  or  even 
seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  they  got  home !  "Last 
night,  sir,"  he  added,  "master  did  som'mut  uncommon 
'straordinary :  he  told  me  to  drive  to  Greenwich ;  and, 

when  I  gets  there,  he  bids  me  pull  up  at  the and  get 

him  a  draught  of  ale — and  then  he  drinks  a  sup,  and  tells 
me  and  John  to  finish  it,  and  then  turn  the  horses'  heads 
back  again  for  town !"  I  gave  the  man  half-a-guinea,  and 
solemnly  enjoined  him  to  keep  what  he  had  told  me  a 
profound  secret. 

What  was  to  be  done? — what  steps  could  we  take? — 
how  deal  with  such  a  public  man  as  Mr.  Stafford?  I  felt 
myself  in  a  fearful  dilemma.  Should  I  communicate  can- 
didly with  Lady  Emma?  I  thought  it  better,  on  the 
whole,  to  wait  a  little  longer;  and  was  delighted  to  find 
that,  as  public  business  slackened  a  little,  and  Mr.  Staf- 
ford carried  several  favorite  measures  very  successfully, 
and  with  comparatively  little  effort,  he  intermitted  his  at- 
tention to  business,  and  was  persuaded  into  spending  the 
recess  at  the  house  of  one  of  his  relatives,  a  score  or  two 
miles  from  town,  whose  enchanting  house  and  grounds, 
and  magnificent  hospitalities,  served  to  occupy  Mr.  Staf- 
ford's   mind    with    bustling    and    pleasurable    thoughts. 


320  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

Such  a  fortnight's  interval  did  wonders  for  him.  Lady 
Emma,  whom  I  had  requested  to  write  frequently  to  me 
about  him,  represented  things  more  and  more  cheer- 
fully in  every  succeeding  letter — saying,  that  the  "dis- 
tressing flightiness,"  which  Mr.  Stafford  had  occasionally 
evinced   in   town,   had   totally   disappeared ;   that   every 

body  at House  was  astonished  at  the  elasticity  and 

joyousness  of  his  spirit,  and  the  energy,  almost  amount- 
ing to  enthusiasm,  with  which  he  entered  into  the  glit- 
tering gaieties  and  festivities  that  were  going  on  around 
him.  "He  was  the  life  and  soul  of  the  party."  He  seemed 
determined  to  banish  business  from  his  thoughts,  at  least 
for  a  while ;  and  when  a  chance  allusion  was  made  to  it, 
would  put  it  off  gaily  with — "Sufficient  to  the  day  is  the 
evil  thereof."  All  this  filled  me  with  consolation.  I  dis- 
missed the  apprehensions  which  had  latterly  harassed 
my  mind  concerning  him,  and  heartily  thanked  God  that 
Mr.  Stafford's  splendid  powers  seemed  likely  to  be  yet 
long  spared  to  the  country — that  the  hovering  fiend  was 
beaten  off  from  his  victim — might  it  be  for  ever! 

The  House  at  length  resumed;  Mr.  Stafford  returned 
to  town,  and  all  his  weighty  cares  again  gathered  around 
him.  Hardly  a  few  days  had  elapsed  before  he  delivered 
one  of  the  longest,  calmest,  most  argumentative  speeches 
which  had  ever  fallen  from  him.  Indeed,  it  began  to  be 
commonly  remarked,  that  all  he  said  in  the  House  wore 
a  matter-of-fact,  business-like  air,  which  nobody  could 
have  expected  from  him.  All  this  was  encouraging.  The 
measure  which  he  brought  forward  in  the  speech  last  al- 
luded to,  was  hotly  contested,  inch  by  inch,  in  the  House, 
and  at  last,  contrary  even  to  his  own  expectations,  car- 
ried, though  by  an  inconsiderable  majority.  All  his 
friends  congratulated  him  on  his  triumph. 

"Yes,  I  have  triumphed  at  last,"  he  said  emphatically, 
as  he  left  the  House,  He  went  home  late  at  night,  and 
alarmed,  confounded  his  domestics,  by  calling  them  all 
up,  and — it  is  lamentable  to  have  to  record  such  things  of 
such  a  man — insisting  on  their  illuminating  the  house — 
candles  in  every  window — in  front  and  behind !     It  was 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  321 

fortunate  that  Lady  Emma  and  her  family  had  not  yet 

returned  from  House,  to  witness  this  unequivocal 

indication  of  returning  insanity.  He  himself  personally 
assisted  at  the  ridiculous  task  of  lighting  the  candles, 
and  putting  them  in  the  windows ;  and,  when  it  was 
completed,  actually  harangued  the  assembled  servants  on 
the  signal  triumph  he  and  the  country  had  obtained  that 
night  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  concluded  by  or- 
dering them  to  extinguish  the  lights,  and  adjourn  to  the 
kitchen  to  supper,  when  he  would  presently  join  them, 
and  give  them  a  dozen  of  wine!  He  was  as  good  as 
his  word :  yes,  Mr.  Stafford  sat  at  the  head  of  his  con- 
founded servants — few  in  number  on  account  of  the  fam- 
ily's absence — and  engaged  in  the  most  uproarious  hi- 
larity !  Fortunately,  most  fortunately,  his  conduct  was 
unhesitatingly  attributed  to  intoxication — in  which  con- 
dition he  was  really  carried  to  bed  at  an  advanced  hour 
in  the  morning,  by  those  whom  nothing  but  their  bashful 
fears  had  saved  from  being  similarly  overcome  by  the 
wine  they  had  been  drinking.  All  this  was  told  me  by  the 
coachman,  who  had  communicated  with  me  formerly — 
and  in  tears,  for  he  was  an  old  and  faithful  servant.  He 
assiduously  kept  up  among  his  fellow  servants  the  notion 
that  their  master's  drunkenness  was  the  cause  of  his 
extraordinary  behavior. 

I  called  on  him  the  day  after,  and  found  him  sitting  in 
his  library,  dictating  to  his  secretary,  whom  he  directed 
to  withdraw  as  soon  as  I  entered.  He  then  drew  his  chair 
close  to  mine,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"Doctor,  would  you  believe  it,"  said  he,  "I  was  hor- 
ribly drunk  last  night — I  can't  imagine  how — and  am 
sure  I  did  something  or  other  very  absurd  among  the 
servants.  I  dare  not,  of  course  ask  any  of  them — and  am 
positively  ashamed  to  look  even  my  valet  in  the  face." 

"Poh,  poh — Semel  insanivimus  omnes"  I  stammered,  at- 
tempting to  smile,  scarcely  knowing  what  to  say. 

"Don't — don't  desert  me,  doctor!"  he  sobbed,  clasp- 
ing my  hand,  and  looking  sorrowfully  in  my  face — 
"Don't  you  desert  me,  my  tried  friend.     Everybody  is 


322  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

forsaking  me!  The  King  hates  me — the  Commons  des- 
pise me — the  people  would  have  my  blood,  if  they  dared ! 
And  yet  why? — What  have  I  done?  God  knows,  I  have 
done  everything  for  the  best — indeed,  indeed  I  have !" 
he  continued,  grasping  my  hand  in  silence. 

"There's  a  terrible  plot  hatching  against  me! — Hush!" 
He  rose  and  bolted  the  door.  "Did  you  see  that  fellow 
whom  I  ordered  out  on  your  entrance?" — naming  his  pri- 
vate secretary — "Well,  that  infamous  fellow  thinks  he 
is  to  succeed  me  in  my  office,  and  has  actually  gained  over 
the  King  and  several  of  the  aristocracy  to  his  interest !" 

"Nonsense — nonsense — stuff! — You  have  wine  in  your 
head,  Mr.  Stafford,"  said  I  angrily,  trying  to  choke  down 
my  emotions. 

"No,  no — sober  enough  now,  Doctor  .     I'll  tell 

you  what  (albeit  unused  to  the  melting  mood)  has  thus 
overcome  me :  Lady  Emma  favors  the  scoundrel !  They 
correspond !  My  children,  even,  are  gained  over ! — But 
Emma,  my  wife,  my  love,  who  could  have  thought  it!" 
*  *  I  succeeded  in  calming  him,  and  he  began  to 
converse  on  different  subjects,  although  the  fiend  was 

manifest  again.     "Doctor  ,  I'll  intrust  you  with  a 

secret — a  state  secret !  You  must  know  that  I  have  long 
entertained  the  idea  of  uniting  all  the  European  states 
into  one  vast  republic,  and  have  at  last  arranged  a  scheme 
which  will,  I  think,  be  unhesitatingly  adopted.     I  have 

written  to  Prince  on  the  subject,  and  expect  his 

answer  soon !  Isn't  it  a  grand  thought !"  I  assented,  of 
course.  "It  will  emblazon  my  name  in  the  annals  of 
eternity,  beyond  all  Roman  and  all  Grecian  fame,"  he 
continued,  waving  his  hands  oratorically ;  "but  I've  been 
— yes,  yes — premature ! — My  secret  is  safe  with  you.  Doc- 
tor  ?" 

"Oh,  certainly!"  I  replied,  with  a  melancholy  air,  ut- 
tering a  deep  sigh. 

"But  now  to  business.  I'll  tell  you  why  I've  sent  for 
you."  I  had  called  unasked,  as  the  reader  will  recollect. 
"I'll  tell  you,"  he  continued,  taking  my  hand  affection- 
ately:— "Dr.  ,  I  have   known  you  now  for   many 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  323 

years,  ever  since  we  were  at  Cambridge  together"  (my 
heart  ached  at  the  recollection),  "and  we  have  been  good 
friends  ever  since.  I  have  noticed  that  you  have  never 
asked  a  favor  from  me  since  I  knew  you.  Every  one  else 
has  teased  me — but  I  have  never  had  a  request  preferred 
me  from  you,  my  dear  friend."  He  burst  into  tears,  mine 
very  nearly  overflowing. 

There  was  no  longer  any  doubt  that  Mr.  Stafford — the 
great,  the  gifted  Mr.  Stafford — was  sitting  before  me  in  a 
state  of  idiocy ! — of  madness !  I  felt  faint  and  sick  as  he 
proceeded.  "Well,  I  thank  God  I  have  it  now  in  my 
power  to  reward  you — to  offer  you  something  that  will 
fully  show  the  love  I  bear  you,  and  my  unlimited  confi- 
dence in  your  talents  and  integrity.  '  I  have  determined 

to  recall  our  ambassador  at  the  Court  of ,  and  shall 

supply  his  place" — he  looked  at  me  with  a  good-natured 

smile — "by  my  friend,  Dr. !"    He  leaned  back  in  his 

chair,  and  eyed  me  with  a  triumphant,  a  gratified  air,  evi- 
dently preparing  himself  to  be  overwhelmed  with  my 
thanks.  In  one  instant,  however,  "a  change  came  o'er 
the  aspect  of  his  dream."  His  features  grew  suddenly 
disturbed,  now  flushed,  now  pale ;  his  manner  grew  rest- 
less and  embarrassed ;  and  I  felt  convinced  that  a  lucid 
interval  had  occurred — that  a  consciousness  of  his  having 
been  either  saying  or  doing  something  very  absurd,  had 
that  instant  flashed  across  his  mind!  "Ah,  I  see,  Dr. 
,"  he  resumed,  in  an  altered  tone,  speaking  hesitat- 
ingly, while  a  vivid  glance  shot  from  his  eye  into  my 
very  soul,  as  though  he  would  see  whether  I  had  detected 
the  process  of  thought  which  had  passed  through  his 
mind — "you  look  surprised — ha,  ha ! — and  well  you  may ! 
But  now  I'll  explain  the  riddle.    You  must  know  that 

Lord is  expecting  to  be  our  new  ambassador,  and, 

in  fact,  I  must  offer  it  him ;  but — but — I  wish  to  pique 
him  into  declining  it,  when  I'll  take  offence — by — telling 
him — hinting  carelessly,  that  one  of  my  friends  had  the 
prior  refusal  of  it!" 

Did  not  the  promptitude  and  plausibility  of  this  pre- 
text savor  of  madness?     He  hinted,  soon  after,  that  he 


324  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

had  much  business  in  hand,  and  I  withdrew.  I  fell  back 
in  my  carriage,  and  resigned  myself  to  bitterness  and 
agonizing  reflections  of  the  scene  I  had  just  quitted. 
What  was  to  be  done?  Mr.  Stafford,  by  some  extrava- 
gant act,  might  commit  himself  frightfully  with  public 
affairs. 

Lady  Emma,  painful  as  the  task  was,  must  be  written 
to.  Measures  must  now  be  had  recourse  to.  The  case 
admitted  of  no  further  doubt.  Yes,  this  great,  this  unfor- 
tunate man,  must  be  put  into  constraint,  and  that  im- 
mediately. In  the  tumult  of  my  thoughts,  I  scarcely 
knew  what  to  decide  on ;  but,  at  last  I  ordered  the  man 
to  drive  to  the  houses  of  Sir ,  and  Dr. ,  to  con- 
sult with  them  on  the  proper  course  to  be  pursued. 

Oh,  God  ! — Oh,  horror — Oh,  my  unhappy  soul ! — Des- 
pair !    Hark ! — what  do  I  hear? — Do  I  hear  aright 

Have  I  seen  aright — or  is  it  all  a  dream? — Shall  I 
awake  to-morrow  and  find  it  false? 


\ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


RICH   AND   POOR. 


REMARKABLE  and  affecting-  juxtaposition  of 
the  two  poles,  so  to  speak,  of  human  condition — 
affluence  and  poverty — rank  and  degradation — 
came  under  my  notice  during  the  early  part  of 
the  year  181-.  The  dispensations  of  Providence  are  fear- 
ful levellers  of  the  factitious  distinctions  among  men! 
Little  boots  it  to  our  common  foe,  w^hether  he  pluck  his 
prey  from  the  downy  satin-curtained  couch,  or  the 
wretched  pallet  of  a  prison  or  a  workhouse!  The  oppres- 
sive splendor  of  rank  and  riches,  indeed ! — what  has  it 
of  solace  or  mitigation  to  him  bidden  "to  turn  his  pale 
face  to  the  wall" — to  look  his  last  on  life,  its  toys  and 
tinselries? 

The  Earl  of  's  old  tormentor,  the  gout,  had  laid 

close  siege  to  him  during  the  early  part  of  the  winter  of 
181-,  and  inflicted  on  him  agonies  of  unusual  intensity  and 
duration.  It  left  him  in  a  very  low  and  poor  state  of 
health — his  spirits  utterly  broken — and  his  temper  soured 
and  irritable,  to  an  extent  that  was  intolerable  to  those 
around  him.  The  discussion  of  a  political  question,  in 
the  issue  of  which  his  interests  were  deeply  involved,  se- 
duced him  into  an  attendance  at  the  House  of  Lords, 
long  before  he  was  in  a  fit  state  for  removal,  even  from 
his  bedchamber;  and  the  consequences  of  such  a  shat- 
tered invalid's  premature  exposure  to  a  bleak  winter's 
wind  may  be  easily  anticipated.  He  was  laid  again  on 
a  bed  of  suffering;  and  having,  through  some  sudden 
pique,  dismissed  his  old  family  physician,  his  lordship 
was  pleased  to  summon  me  to  supply  his  place. 

The   Earl  of  was   celebrated   for   his   enormous 


326  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

riches,  and  the  more  than  Oriental  scale  of  luxury  and 
magnificence  on  which  his  establishment  was  conducted. 
The  slanderous  world  further  gave  him  credit  for  a  dis- 
position of  the  most  exquisite  selfishness,  which,  added 
to  his  capricious  and  choleric  humor,  made  him  a  very- 
unenviable  companion,  even  in  health.  What,  then,  must 
such  a  man  be  in  sickness?  I  trembled  at  the  task  that 
was  before  me ! 

It  was  a  bitter  December  evening  on  which  I  paid  him 
my  first  visit.  Nearly  the  whole  of  the  gloomy,  secluded 
street  in  which  his  mansion  was  situated  was  covered 
with  straw;  and  men  were  stationed  about  it  to  prevent 
noise  in  any  shape.  The  ample  knocker  was  muffled  and 
the  bell  unhung,  lest  the  noise  of  either  should  startle  the 
aristocratical  invalid.  The  instant  my  carriage,  with  its 
muffled  roll,  drew  up,  the  hall-door  sprang  open,  as  if  by 
magic ;  for  the  watchful  porter  had  orders  to  anticipate 
all  comers,  on  pain  of  instant  dismissal.  Thick  matting 
was  laid  over  the  hall  floor — double  carpeting  covered 
the  staircases  and  landings,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom 
of  the  house — and  all  the  door  edges  were  lined  with 
list.  How  could  sickness  or  death  presume  to  enter,  in 
spite  of  such  precautions ! 

A  servant,  in  large  list-slippers,  asked  me,  in  a  whis- 
per, my  name;  and,  on  learning  it,  said  the  countess 
wished  to  have  a  few  moments'  interview  with  me,  before 
I  was  shown  up  to  his  lordship.  I  was,  therefore,  led 
into  a  magnificent  apartment,  where  her  ladyship,  with 
two  grown-up  daughters,  and  a  young  man  in  the  Guards' 
uniform,  sat  sipping  coffee — for  they  had  but  just  left 
the  dining-room.  The  countess  looked  pale  and  dispirited. 

"Doctor ,"  said  she,  after  a  few  words  of  course  had 

been  interchanged.  "I'm  afraid  you'll  have  a  trying  task 
to  manage  his  lordship.  We  are  all  worn  out  with  at- 
tending on  him,  and  yet  he  says  we  neglect  him !  Noth- 
ing can  please  or  satisfy  him ! — What  do  you  imagine  was 
the  reason  of  his  dismissing  Dr.  ?  Because  he  per- 
sisted in  attributing  the  present  seizure  to  his  lordship's 
imprudent  visit  to  the  House !" 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  327 

"Well,  your  ladyship  knows  I  can  but  attempt  to  do 
my  duty,"  I  was  answering,  when  at  that  instant,  the 
door  was  opened,  and  a  sleek  servant,  all  pampered  and 
powdered,  in  a  soto  voce  tone  informed  the  countess  that 
his  lordship  had  been  inquiring  for  me.  "Oh,  for  God's 
sake,  go — go  immediately,"  said  her  ladyship  eagerly,  "or 
we  shall  have  no  peace  for  a  week  to  come! — I  shall,  per- 
haps, follow  you  in  a  few  minutes!     But  mind,  please, 

not  a  breath  about  Dr. 's  leaving!"    I  bowed,  and  left 

the  room.  I  followed  the  servant  up  the  noble  staircase — 
vases  and  statues,  with  graceful  lamps,  at  every  landing 
— and  was  presently  ushered  into  the  "Bluebeard"  cham- 
ber. Oh,  the  sumptuous — the  splendid  air  of  everything 
within  it!  Flowered,  festooned  satin  window-draperies — 
flowered  satin  bed-curtains,  gathered  together  at  the 
top  by  a  golden  eagle — flowered  satin  counterpane! 
Beautiful  brussels  muffled  the  tread  of  your  feet,  and 
delicately-carved  chairs  and  couches  solicited  to  repose! 
The  very  chamber-lamps,  glistening  in  soft  radiance  from 
snowy  marble  stands  in  the  further  corners  of  the  room, 
were  tasteful  and  elegant  in  the  extreme.  In  short, 
grandeur  and  elegance  seemed  to  outvie  one  another, 
both  in  the  materials  and  disposition  of  everything 
around  me.  I  never  saw  anything  like  it  before,  nor  have 
I  since.  I  never  in  my  life  sat  in  such  a  yielding  luxur- 
ious chair  as  the  one  I  was  beckoned  to,  beside  the  Earl. 
There  was,  in  a  word,  everything  calculated  to  cheat  a 
man  into  a  belief  that  he  belonged  to  a  "higher  order" 
than  that  of  "poor  humanity." 

But  for  the  lord — the  owner  of  all  this — my  patient. 
Ay,  there  he  lay,  imbedded  in  down,  amid  snowy  linen 
and  figured  satin — all  that  was  visible  of  him  being  his 
little,  sallow,  wrinkled  visage,  worn  with  illness,  age, 
and  fretfulness,  peering  curiously  at  me  from  the  depths 
of  his  pillow — and  his  left  hand,  lying  outside  the  bed- 
clothes, holding  a  white  embroidered  handkerchief,  with 
which  he  occasionally  wiped  his  clammy  features. 

"U — u — gh  !  U — u — gh  !"  he  groaned,  or  rather  gasped, 
as  a  sudden  twinge  of  pain  twisted  and  corrugated  his 


328  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

features  almost  out  of  all  resemblance  to  humanity — till 
they  looked  more  like  those  of  a  strangled  ape  than  the 
Right  Honorable  the  Earl  of .  The  paroxysm  pres- 
ently abated.     "You've  been — down-stairs — more  than — 

five  minutes — I  believe — Dr.  ?"  he  commenced,  in 

a  petulant  tone,  pausing  for  breath  between  every  two 
words — his  features  not  yet  recovered  from  their  con- 
tortions.   I  bowed. 

"I  flatter  myself — it  was  I — who  sent — for  you — Dr. 

,  and — not  her  ladyship,"  he  continued.     I   bowed 

again,  and  was  going  to  explain,  when  he  resumed. 

"Ah !  I  see !  Heard — the  whole  story  of  Dr. 's  dis- 
missal— ugh — ugh — eh  ! — May  I — beg  the  favor — of 
hearing  her  ladyship's  version — of  the  affair?" 

"My  lord,  I  heard  nothing  but  the  simple  fact  of  Dr. 
's  having  ceased  to  attend  your  lordship " 

"Ah  ! — ceased  to  attend !  Good !"  he  repeated  with  a 
sneer. 

"Will  your  lordship  permit  me  to  ask  if  you  have  much 
pain  just  now?"  I  inquired,  anxious  to  terminate  his 
splenetic  display.  I  soon  discovered  that  he  was  in  the 
utmost  peril ;  for  there  was  every  symptom  of  the  gout's 
having  been  driven  from  its  old  quarter — the  extremities 
— to  the  vital  organs,  the  stomach  and  bowels.  One  of 
the  most  startling  symptoms  was  the  sensation  he  de- 
scribed as  resembling  that  of  a  platter  of  ice  laid  upon  the 
pit  of  his  stomach ;  and  he  complained  also  of  increasing 
nausea.  Though  not  choosing  to  apprise  him  of  the  ex- 
act extent  of  his  danger,  I  strove  so  to  shape  my  ques- 
tions and  comments  that  he  might  infer  his  being  in  dan- 
gerous circumstances.  He  either  did  not,  however,  or 
would  not  comprehend  me.  I  told  him  that  the  remedies 
I  should  recommend 

"Ah,  by  the  way,"  said  he,  turning  abruptly  towards 

me,  "it  mustn't  be  the  execrable  stufif  that  Dr.  half 

poisoned  me  with !  'Gad,  sir,  it  had  a  most  diabolical 
stench — garlic  was  a  pine-apple  to  it ;  and  here  was  I 
obliged  to  lie  soaked  in  eau  de  Cologne,  and  half-stifled 
with  musk.    He  did  it  on  purpose — he  had  a  spite  against 


THE  DIAR^  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  329 

me."  I  begged  to  be  shown  the  medicines  he  complained 
of,  and  his  valet  brought  me  the  half-emptied  vial.  I 
found  that  my  predecessor  had  been  exhibiting  assafoetida 
and  musk ;  and  could  no  longer  doubt  the  coincidence  of 
his  view  of  the  case  and  mine. 

"I'm  afraid,  my  lord,"  said  I,  hesitatingly,  "that  I  shall 
find  myself  compelled  to  continue  the  use  of  the  medi- 
cines which  Dr. prescribed." 

"I'll  be if  you  do,  though,  that's  all,"  replied  the 

Earl,  continuing  to  mutter  indistinctly  some  insulting 
words  about  my  "small  acquaintance  with  the  pharma- 
copoeia."   I  took  no  notice  of  it. 

"Would  your  lordship,"  said  I,  after  a  pause,  "object 
to  the  use  of  camphor  or  ammonia?" 

"I  object  to  the  use  of  every  medicine  but  one,  and  that 
is  a  taste  of  some  potted  boar's  flesh,  which  my  nephew, 
I  understand,  has  this  morning  sent  from  abroad." 

"My  lord,  it  is  utterly  out  of  the  question.  Your  lord- 
ship, it  is  my  duty  to  inform  you,  is  in  extremely  danger- 
ous circumstances " 

"The  devil  I  am !"  he  exclaimed,  with  an  incredulous 

smile.    "Poh,  poh !    So  Dr. said.    According  to  him, 

I  ought  to  have  resigned  about  a  week  ago !  Egad — but 
— but — what  symptom  of  danger  is  there  now?"  he  in- 
quired abruptly. 

"Why,  one — in  fact,  my  lord,  the  worst  is — the  sensa- 
tion of  numbness  at  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  which  your 
lordship  mentioned  just  now." 

"Poh! — gone — gone — gone!  A  mere  nervous  sensa- 
tion, I  apprehend.  I  am  freer  from  pain  just  now  than  I 
have  been  all  along."  His  face  changed  a  little.  "Doc- 
tor— rather  faint  with  talking — can  I  have  a  cordial? 
Pierre,  get  me  some  brandy!"  he  added,  in  a  feeble  voice. 
The  valet  looked  at  me — I  nodded  acquiescence,  and  he 
instantly  brought  the  Earl  a  wineglassful. 

"Another — another — another,"  gasped  the  Earl,  his 
face  suddenly  bedewed  with  a  cold  perspiration.  A 
strange  expression  flitted  f9r  an  instant  over  the  features; 


330  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

his  eyelids  drooped;  there  was  a  little  twitching  about 

the  mouth 

"Pierre  1  Pierre !  Pierre !  call  the  countess !"  said  I  hur- 
riedly loosening  the  earl's  shirt-neck,  for  I  saw  he  was  dy- 
ing. Before  the  valet  returned,  however,  while  the  muf- 
fled tramp  of  footsteps  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  approach- 
ing   nearer — nearer — nearer — it    was     all     over!      The 

haughty  Earl  of  had  gone  where  rank  and  riches 

availed  him  nothing — to  be  alone  with  God ! 

On  arriving  home  that  evening,  my  mind  saddened 
with  the  scene  I  had  left,  I  found  my  wife,  Emily,  sitting 
by  the  drawing-room  fire,  alone,  and  in  tears.  On  in- 
quiring the  reason  of  it,  she  told  me  that  a  charwoman, 
who  had  been  that  day  engaged  at  our  housey  had  been 
telling  Jane,  my  wife's  maid,  who,  of  course,  communi- 
cated it  to  her  mistress,  one  of  the  most  heart-rending 
tales  of  distress  that  she  had  ever  listened  to — that  pov- 
erty and  disease  united  could  inflict  on  humanity.  My 
sweet  wife's  voice,  ever  eloquent  in  the  cause  of  benevo- 
lence, did  not  require  much  exertion  to  persuade  me  to 
resume  my  walking  trim,  and  go  that  very  evening  to  the 
scene  of  wretchedness  she  described.  The  charwoman 
had  gone  half  an  hour  ago,  but  left  the  name  and  address 
of  the  family  she  spoke  of,  and,  after  learning  them,  I  set 
off.  The  cold  was  so  fearfully  intense,  that  I  was  obliged 
to  return  and  get  a  "comfortable"  for  my  neck ;  and 
Emily  took  the  opportunity  to  empty  all  the  loose  silver 
in  her  purse  into  my  hand,  saying,  "You  know  what  to 
do  with  it,  love!"  Blessing  her  benevolent  heart,  I  once 
more  set  out  on  my  errand  of  mercy.  With  some  diffi- 
culty, I  found  out  the  neighborhood,  threading  my  doubt- 
ful way  through  a  labyrinth  of  obscure  back  streets, 
lanes,  and  alleys,  till  I  came  to  "Peter's  Place,"  where 
the  objects  of  my  visit  resided.  I  began  to  be  apprehen- 
sive for  the  safety  of  my  person  and  property,  when  I 
discovered  the  sort  of  neighborhood  I  had  got  into. 

"Do  you  know  where  some  people  of  the  name  of 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  331 

O'Hurdle  live?"  I  inquired  of  the  watchman,  who  was 
passing  bawling  the  hour. 

"Yis,  I  knows  two  of  that  'ere  name  hereabouts — which 
Hurdle  is  it,  sir?"  inquired  the  gruff  guardian  of  the 
night. 

"I  really  don't  exactly  know — the  people  I  want  are 
very,  very  poor." 

"Oh !  oh !  oh !  I'm  thinking  they're  all  much  of  a  much- 
ness for  the  matter  of  that,  about  here,"  he  replied,  set- 
ting down  his  lantern,  and  slapping  his  hands  against  his 
sides  to  keep  himself  warm. 

"But  the  people  I  want  are  very  ill — I'm  a  doctor." 

"Oh,  oh!  you  must  be  meaning  'em  'oose  son  was 
transported  yesterday.  His  name  was  Tim  O'Hurdle, 
sir — though  some  called  him  Jimmy — and  I  was  the  man 
that  catch'd  him,  sir — I  did !  It  was  for  a  robbery  in  this 
here " 

"Ay,  ay — I  dare  say  they  are  the  people  I  want. 
Where  is  their  house?"  I  inquired  hastily,  somewhat  dis- 
turbed at  the  latter  portion  of  his  intelligence — a  new 
and  forbidding  feature  of  the  case. 

"I'll  show'ee  the  way,  sir,"  said  the  watchman,  walk- 
ing before  me,  and  holding  his  lantern  close  to  the  ground 
to  light  my  path.  He  led  me  to  the  last  house  of  the 
place,  and  through  a  miserable  dilapidated  doorway ;  then 
up  two  pairs  of  narrow,  dirty,  broken  stairs,  till  we  found 
ourselves  at  the  top  of  the  house.  He  knocked  at  the 
door  with  the  end  of  his  stick,  and  called  out,  "Holloa, 
missus!  Hey!  Within  there!  You're  wanted  here!"  add- 
ing suddenly,  in  a  lower  tone,  touching  his  hat,  "It's  a 
bitter  night,  sir — a  trifle,  sir,  to  keep  one's  self  warm — 
drink  your  health,  sir."  I  gave  him  a  trifle,  motioned  him 
away  and  took  his  place  at  the  door. 

"Thank  your  honor! — mind  your  watch  and  pockets, 
sir,  that's  all,"  he  muttered,  and  left  me.  I  felt  very  ner- 
vous as  the  sound  of  his  retreating  footsteps  died  away 
down-stairs.    I  had  half  a  mind  to  follow  him. 

"Who's  there?"  inquired  a  female  voice  through  the 
door,  opened  only  an  inch  or  two. 


333  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"It's  I — a  doctor.  Is  your  name  O'Hurdle?  Is  any 
one  ill  here?  I'm  come  to  see  you.  Betsy  Jones,  a  char- 
woman, told  me  of  you." 

"You're  right,  sir,"  replied  the  same  voice  sorrowfully. 
"Walk  in,  sir,"  and  the  door  was  opened  enough  for  me 
to  enter. 

Now,  reader,  who,  while  glancing  over  these  sketches, 
are  perhaps  reposing  in  the  lap  of  luxury,  believe  me 
when  I  tell  you,  that  the  scene  which  I  shall  attempt  to 
set  before  you,  as  I  encountered  it,  I  feel  to  beggar  all 
my  powers  of  description ;  and  that  what  you  may  con- 
ceive to  be  exaggerations,  are  infinitely  short  of  the 
frightful  realities  of  that  evening.  Had  I  not  seen  and 
known  for  myself,  I  should  scarcely  have  believed  that 
such  misery  existed. 

"Wait  a  moment,  sir,  an'  I'll  fetch  you  a  light,"  said  the 
woman,  in  a  strong  Irish  accent ;  and  I  stood  still  out- 
side the  door  till  she  returned  with  a  rushlight,  stuck  in  a 
blue  bottle.  I  had  time  for  no  more  than  one  glimpse 
at  the  haggard  features  and  filthy  ragged  appearance  of 
the  bearer,  with  an  infant  at  the  breast,  before  a  gust  of 
wind,  blowing  through  an  unstopped  broken  pane  in  the 
window,  suddenly  extinguished  the  candle,  and  we  were 
left  in  a  sort  of  darkness  visible,  the  only  object  I  could 
see  being  the  faint  glow  of  expiring  embers  on  the  hearth. 
"Would  your  honor  be  after  standing  still  a  while,  or 
you'll  be  thredding  on  the  chilther?"  said  the  woman; 
and,  bending  down,  she  endeavored  to  relight  the  candle 
by  the  embers.  The  poor  creature  tried  in  vain,  how- 
ever; for  it  seemed  there  was  but  an  inch  or  two  of  the 
candle  left,  and  the  heat  of  the  embers  melted  it  away, 
and  the  wick  fell  out. 

"Oh,  murther — there!  What  will  we  do?"  exclaimed 
the  woman ;  "that's  the  last  bit  of  candle  we've  in  the 
house,  an'  it's  not  a  farthing  I  have  to  buy  another !" 

"Come — send  and  buy  another,"  said  I,  giving  her  a 
shilling,  though  I  was  obliged  to  feel  for  her  hand. 

"Oh,  thank  your  honor!"  said  she,  "an'  we'll  soon  be 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  333 

seeing  one  another.    Here,  Sal !  Sal !  Sally— here,  ye  cra- 
tur!" 

"Well,  and  what  d'ye  want  with  me?"  asked  a  sullen 
voice  from  another  part  of  the  room,  while  there  was  a 
rustling  of  straw. 

"Fait,  an'  ye  must  get  up  wid  ye,  and  go  to  buy  a 
candle.    Here's  a  shilling " 

"Heigh — and  isn't  it  a  loaf  o'  bread  ye  should  rather  be 
after  buying,  mother?"  growled  the  same  voice, 

"Perhaps  the  doctor  won't  mind,"  stammered  the 
mother ;  "he  won't  mind  our  getting  a  loaf  too." 

"Oh,  no,  no !  for  God's  sake  go  directly,  and  get  what 
you  like !"  said  I,  touched  by  the  woman's  tone  and  man- 
ner. 

"Ho,  Sal !    Get  up — ye  may  buy  some  bread  too " 

"Bread!  bread!  bread! — where's  the  shilling?"  said  the 
same  voice,  in  quick  and  eager  tones ;  and  the  ember-light 
enabled  me  barely  to  distinguish  the  dim  outline  of  a 
figure  rising  from  the  straw  on  which  it  had  been 
stretched,  and  which  nearly  overturned  me  by  stumbling 
against  me,  on  its  way  towards  where  the  mother  stood. 
It  was  a  grown-up  girl,  who,  after  receiving  the  shilling, 
promised  to  bring  the  candle  lighted,  lest  her  own  fire 
should  not  be  sufficient,  and  withdrew,  slamming  the 
door  violently  after  her,  and  rattling  down  stairs  with  a 
rapidity  which  showed  the  interest  she  felt  in  her  errand. 

"I'm  sorry  it's  not  a  seat  we  have  that's  fit  for  you,  sir," 
said  the  woman,  approaching  towards  where  I  was  stand- 
ing; "but  if  I  may  make  so  bold  as  to  take  your  honor's 
hand,  I'll  guide  you  to  the  only  one  we  have — barring 
the  floor — a  box  by  the  fire,  and  there  ye'll  sit  perhaps 
till  she  comes  with  the  light." 

"Anywhere — anywhere,  my  good  woman,"  said  I ;  "but 
I  hope  your  daughter  will  return  soon,  for  I  have  not 
long  to  be  here,"  and,  giving  her  my  gloved  hand,  she 
led  me  to  a  deal  box,  on  which  I  sat  down,  and  she  on 
the  floor  beside  me.  I  was  beginning  to  ask  her  some 
questions,  when  the  moaning  of  a  little  child  interrupted 
me. 


334  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"Hush !  hush  !  ye  little  divel — hush  ! — ye'll  be  waking 
your  poor  daddy ! — hush ! — go  to  sleep  wid  ye  1"  said  the 
woman,  in  an  earnest  under  tone. 

"Och — och — mammy! — mammy!  an'  isn't  it  so  cowld? 
' — I  can't  sleep,  mammy,"  replied  the  tremulous  voice  of  a 
very  young  child ;  and,  directing  my  eyes  to  the  quarter 
from  which  the  sound  came,  I  fancied  I  saw  a  poor  shiv- 
ering half-naked  creature,  cowering  under  the  pillow. 

"Hish — lie  still  wid  ye,  ye  unfortunat'  little  divel — an' 
ye'll  presently  get  something  to  eat.  We  ha'n't  none  of 
us  tasted  a  morsel  sin'  the  morning,  doctor !"  The  child 
she  spoke  to  ceased  its  meanings  instantly ;  but  I  heard 
the  sound  of  its  little  teeth  chattering,  and  of  its  hands 
rubbing  and  striking  together.  Well  it  might,  poor 
wretch — for  I  protest  the  room  was  nearly  as  cold  as  the 
open  air — for,  besides  the  want  of  fire,  the  bleak  wind 
blew,  in  chilling  gusts,  through  the  broken  panes  of  the 
window. 

"Why,  how  many  of  you  are  there  in  this  place,  my 
good  woman?"  said  I. 

"Och,  murther!  murther!  murther!  and  isn't  there — 
barring  Sal,  that's  gone  for  the  candle,  and  Bobby,  that's 
out  begging,  and  Tim,  that  the  ould  divels  at  Newgate 
have  sent  away  to  Bottomless*  yesterday,"  she  continued, 
bursting  into  tears; — "Och,  an'  won't  that  same  be  the 
death  o'  me,  and  the  poor  father  o'  the  boy — an'  it  wasn't 
sich  a  sentence  he  deserved — but,  hush !  hush !"  she  con- 
tinued, lowering  her  tones,  "an'  it's  waking  the  father  o' 
him,  I'll  be,  that  doesn't " 

"I  understand  your  husband  is  ill,"  said  I. 

"Fait,  sir,  as  ill  as  the  smatticks  (asthmatics)  can  make 
him — the  Lord  pity  him !  But  he's  had  a  blessed  hour's 
sleep,  the  poor  fellow ;  though  the  little  brat  he  has  in  his 
arms  has  been  making  a  noise,  a  little  divel  that  it  is — 
it's  the  youngest  barring  this  one  I'm  suckling — an'  it's 
not  a  fortnight  it  is  sin'  it  first  looked  on  its  mother!" 
she  continued,  sobbing,  and  kissing  her  baby's  hand. 
"Och,  och!  that  the  little  cratur  had  never  been  born!" 

*Botany  Bay. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  335 

I  heard  footsteps  slowly  approaching  the  room,  and 
presently  a  few  rays  of  light  flickered  through  the 
chinks  and  fissures  of  the  door,  which  was  in  a  moment 
or  two  pushed  open,  and  Sal  made  her  appearance,  shad- 
ing the  lighted  candle  in  her  hand,  and  holding  a  quartern 
loaf  under  her  arm.  She  had  brought  but  a  wretched 
rush-light,  which  she  hastily  stuck  into  the  neck  of  the 
bottle,  and  placed  it  on  the  shelf  over  the  fireplace ;  and 
then — what  a  scene  was  visible! 

The  room  was  a  garret,  and  the  sloping  ceiling — if 
such  it  might  be  called — made  it  next  to  impossible  to 
move  anywhere  in  an  upright  position.  The  mockery  of 
a  window  had  not  one  entire  pane  of  glass  in  it ;  but  some 
of  the  holes  were  stopped  with  straw,  rags,  and  brown 
paper,  while  one  or  two  were  not  stopped  at  all !  There 
was  not  an  article  of  furniture  in  the  place — no,  not  a 
bed,  chair,  or  table  of  any  kind;  the  last  remains  of  it 
had  been  seized  for  arrears  of  rent — eighteenpence  a 
week — by  the  horrid  harpy,  their  landlady,  who  lived  on 
the  ground-floor.  The  floor  was  littered  with  dirty  straw, 
such  as  swine  might  scorn — but  which  formed  the  only 
couch  of  this  devoted  family !  The  rushlight  eclipsed  the 
dying  glow  of  the  fevvT  embers,  so  that  there  was  not  even 
the  appearance  of  a  fire !  And  this  in  a  garret  facing  the 
north,  on  one  of  the  bitterest  and  bleakest  nights  I  ever 
knew!  My  heart  sank  within  me  at  witnessing  such 
frightful  misery  and  destitution,  and  contrasting  it,  for 
an  instant,  with  the  aristocratical  splendor,  the  exquisite 
luxuries,  of  my  last  patient  1 — Lazarus  and  Dives ! 

The  woman,  with  whom  I  had  been  conversing,  was 
a  mere  bundle  of  filthy  rags — a  squalid,  shivering,  starved 
creature,  holding  to  her  breast  a  half-naked  infant — her 
matted  hair  hanging  long  and  loosely  down  her  back,  and 
over  her  shoulders ;  her  daughter  Sal  was  in  like  plight — 
a  sullen,  ill-favored  slut,  of  about  eighteen,  who  seemed 
ashamed  of  being  seen,  and  hung  ner  head  like  a  guilty 
one.  She  had  resumed  her  former  station  on  some  straw 
— her  bed! — in  the  extreme  corner  of  the  room,  where 
she  was  squatting,  with  a  little  creature  cowering  close 


336  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

beside  her,  both  munching  ravenously  the  bread  which 
had  been  purchased.  The  miserable  father  of  the  family- 
was  seated  on  the  floor,  with  his  back  propped  against 
the  opposite  side  of  the  fireplace  to  that  which  I  occu- 
pied, and  held  a  child  clasped  loosely  in  his  arms,  though 
he  had  plainly  fallen  asleep.  Oh,  what  a  wretched  object ! 
— a  foul,  shapeless,  brown-paper  cap  on  his  head,  and  a 
ragged  fustian  jacket  on  his  back,  which  a  beggar  might 
have  spurned  with  loathing! 

The  sum  of  what  the  woman  communicated  to  me  was, 
that  her  husband,  a  bricklayer  by  trade,  had  been  long 
unable  to  work  on  account  of  his  asthma ;  and  that  their 
only  means  of  subsistence  were  a  paltry  pittance  from 
the  parish,  her  own  scanty  earnings  as  a  washerwoman, 
which  had  been  interrupted  by  her  recent  confinement, 
and  charities  collected  by  Sal  and  Bobby,  who  was  then 
out  begging.  Their  oldest  son,  Tim,  a  lad  of  sixteen,  had 
been  transported  for  seven  years,  the  day  before,  for  a 
robbery,  of  which  his  mother  vehemently  declared  him  in- 
nocent ;  and  this  last  circumstance  had,  more  than  all  the 
rest,  completely  broken  the  hearts  of  both  his  father  and 
mother,  who  had  absolutely  starved  themselves  and  their 
children,  in  order  to  hoard  up  enough  to  fee  an  Old 
Bailey  counsel  to  plead  for  their  son !  The  husband  had 
been  for  some  time,  I  found,  an  out-patient  of  one  of  the 
infirmaries:  "and  this  poor  little  darlint,"  said  she,  sob- 
bing bitterly,  and  hugging  her  infant  closer  to  her,  "has 
got  the  measles,  I'm  fearin' ;  and  little  Bobby,  too,  is 
catching  them.  Och,  murther,  murther!  Oh,  Christ,  pity 
us,  poor  sinners  that  we  are!  Oh!  what  will  we  do? — 
what  will  we  do?" — and  she  almost  choked  herself  with 
stifling  her  sobs,  for  fear  of  waking  her  husband. 

"And  what  is  the  matter  with  the  child  that  your  hus- 
band is  holding  in  his  arms?"  I  inquired,  pointing  to  it, 
as  it  sat  in  its  father's  arms,  munching  a  little  crust  of 
bread,  and  ever  and  anon  patting  its  father's  face,  ex- 
claiming,   "Da-a-a !— Ab-bab-ba !— Ab-bab-ba !" 

"Och!  what  ails  the  cratur?  Nothing,  but  that  it's 
half-starved  and  naked— an'  isn't  that  enough?— an  isn't 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  337 

it  kilt  I  wish  we  all  were — every  mother's  son  of  us!" 
groaned  the  miserable  woman,  sobbing  as  if  her  heart 
would  break.  At  that  moment  a  lamentable  noise  was 
heard  on  the  stairs,  as  of  a  lad  crying,  accompanied  by 
the  pattering  of  naked  feet.  "Och  1  murther !"  exclaimed 
the  woman,  with  an  agitated  air — "What's  ailing  with 
Bobby?  Is  it  crying  he  is?"  and,  starting  to  the  door, 
she  threw  it  open  time  enough  to  admit  a  ragged,  shiver- 
ing urchin,  about  ten  years  old,  without  shoes  or  stock- 
ings, and  having  no  cap,  and  rags  pinned  about  him, 
which  he  was  obliged  to  hold  up  with  his  right  hand, 
while  the  other  covered  his  left  cheek.  The  little  wretch, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  occasioned  by  seeing  a  strange 
gentleman  in  the  room,  proceeded  to  put  three  or  four 
coppers  into  his  mother's  lap,  telling  her  with  painful  ges- 
tures, that  a  gentleman,  whom  he  had  followed  a  few 
steps  in  the  street,  importuning  for  charity,  had  turned 
round  unexpectedly,  and  struck  him  a  severe  blow  with 
a  cane,  over  his  face  and  shoulders. 

"Let  me  look  at  your  face,  my  poor  little  fellow,"  said 
I,  drawing  him  to  me;  and,  on  removing  his  hand,  I  saw 
a  long  welt  all  down  the  left  cheek.  I  wish  I  could  for- 
get the  look  of  tearless  agony  with  which  his  mother  put 
her  arms  round  his  neck,  and,  drawing  him  to  her  breast, 
exclaimed  faintly — "Bobby! — my  Bobby!"  After  a  few 
moments,  she  released  the  boy,  pointing  to  the  spot 
where  his  sisters  sat,  still  munching  their  bread. 

The  instant  he  saw  what  they  were  doing,  he  sprang 
towards  them,  and  plucked  a  large  fragment  from  the 
loaf,  fastening  on  it  like  a  young  wolf ! 

"Why,  they'll  finish  the  loaf  before  you've  tasted  it, 
my  good  woman,"  said  I. 

"Och,  the  poor  things ! — Let  them — let  them  I"  she  re- 
plied, wiping  away  a  tear.  "I  can  do  without  it  longer 
than  they — the  craturs!" 

"Well,  my  poor  woman,"  said  I,  "I  have  not  much  time 
to  spare,  as  it  is  growing  late.  I  came  here  to  see  what 
I  could  do  for  you  as  a  doctor.  How  many  of  you  are 
ill?" 


338  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"Fait,  an'  isn't  it  ailing  all  of  us  are!  Ah,  your  hon- 
or ! — A  'firmary,  without  physic  or  victuals !" 

"Well,  we  must  see  what  can  be  done  for  you.  What 
is  the  matter  with  your  husband  there?"  said  I,  turning 
towards  him.  He  was  still  asleep,  in  spite  of  the  tickling 
and  stroking  of  his  child's  hands,  who,  at  the  moment  I 
looked,  was  trying  to  push  the  corner  of  its  crust  into  its 
father's  mouth,  chuckling  and  crowing  the  while,  as  is 
the  wont  of  children  who  find  a  passive  subject  for  their 
drolleries. 

"Och !  och!  the  little  villain! — the  thing!"  said  she  im- 
patiently, seeing  the  child's  employment;  "isn't  it  wak- 
ing him  it'll  be?— St— St !" 

"Let  me  see  him  nearer,"  said  I :  "I  must  wake  him,  and 
ask  him  a  few  questions." 

I  moved  from  my  seat  towards  him.  His  head  hung 
down  drowsily.  His  wife  took  down  the  candle  from  the 
shelf,  and  held  it  a  little  above  her  husband's  head,  while 
I  came  in  front  of  him,  and  stooped  on  one  knee  to  in- 
terrogate him. 

"Phelim ! — love ! — honey ! — darlint ! — Wake  wid  ye ! 
And  isn't  it  the  doctor  that  comes  to  see  ye!"  said  she, 
nudging  him  with  her  knee.  He  did  not  stir,  however. 
The  child,  regardless  of  us,  was  still  playing  with  his  pas- 
sive features.  A  glimpse  of  the  awful  truth  flashed  across 
my  mind. 

"Let  me  have  the  candle  a  moment,  my  good  woman," 
said  I,  rather  seriously. 

The  man  was  dead ! 

He  must  have  expired  nearly  an  hour  before,  for  his 
face  and  hands  were  quite  cold ;  but  the  position  in  which 
he  sat,  together  with  the  scantiness  of  the  light,  concealed 
the  event.  It  was  fearful  to  see  the  ghastly  pallor  of  the 
features,  the  fixed  pupils,  the  glassy  glare  downwards,  the 
fallen  jaw! — Was  it  not  the  subject  for  a  painter? — the 
living  child  in  the  arms  of  the  dead  father,  unconsciously 
sporting  with  a  corpse. 

4:  *  *  *  4c 

To  attempt  a  description  of  what  ensued,  would  be 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  339 

idle,  and  even  ridiculous.  It  is  hardly  possible  even  to 
imagine  it !  In  one  word,  the  neighbors  who  lived  on  the 
floor  beneath  were  called  in,  and  did  their  utmost  to  con- 
sole the  wretched  widow  and  quiet  the  children.  They 
laid  out  the  corpse  decently;  and  I  left  them  all  the  silver 
I  had  about  me,  to  enable  them  to  purchase  a  few  of  the 
more  pressing  necessaries.  I  succeeded  afterwards  in 
gaining  two  of  the  children  admittance  into  a  charity 
school,  and  through  my  wife's  interference,  the  poor 
widow  received  the  efficient  assistance  of  an  unobtrusive, 
but  most  incomparable  institution,  "The  Strangers' 
Friend  Society."  I  was  more  than  once  present  when 
those  angels  of  mercy — those  "true  Samaritans" — the 
"Visitors"  of  the  Society,  as  they  are  called — were  en- 
gaged in  their  noble  errand,  and  wished  that  their  numbers 
were  countless,  and  their  means  inexhaustible ! 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  THUNDER-STRUCK. 

N  THE  summer  of  81 — ,  London  was  visited  by  one 
of  the  most  tremendous  thunder-storms  that  have 
been  known  in  this  climate.  Its  character  and  ef- 
fects— some  of  which  latter  form  the  subject  of 
this  chapter — will  make  me  remember  it  to  the  latest  hour 
of  my  life. 

There  was  something  portentous — a  still,  surcharged 
air — about  the  whole  of  Tuesday,  the  10th  of  July,  18 — , 
as  though  nature  were  trembling  and  cowering  beneath 
a  common  shock.  In  the  exquisite  language  of  one  of  our 
old  dramatists,  Marlowe,  there  seemed 

A  calm 

Before  a  tempest,  when  the  gentle  air 

Lays  her  soft  ear  close  to  the  earth,  to  listen 

For  that  she  fears  steals  on  to  ravish  her. 

From  about  eleven  o'clock  at  noon,  the  sky  wore  a  lurid 
threatening  aspect,  that  shot  awe  into  the  beholder ;  sug- 
gesting to  startled  fancy  the  notion,  that  within  the  dim 
confines  of  the  "laboring  air,"  mischief  was  working  to 
the  world. 

The  heat  was  intolerable,  keeping  almost  everybody 
within  doors.  The  dogs,  and  other  cattle  in  the  streets, 
stood  everywhere  panting  and  loath  to  move.  There 
was  no  small  excitement,  or  rather  agitation,  diffused 
throughout  the  country,  especially  London ;  for,  strange 
to  say  (and  many  must  recollect  the  circumstance),  it  had 
been  for  some  time  confidently  foretold  by  certain  enthu- 
siasts, religious  as  well  as  philosophic,  that  the  earth  was 
to  be  destroyed  that  very  day ;  in  short,  that  the  tremen- 
dous Judgment  was  at  hand!     Though  not  myself  over 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  341 

credulous,  or  given  to  superstitious  fears,  I  own  that  on 
coupling  these  fearful  predictions  with  the  unusual,  and 
almost  preternatural  aspect  of  the  day,  I  more  than  once 
experienced  sudden  qualms  of  apprehension  as  I  rode 
along  on  my  daily  rounds.  I  did  not  so  much  communi- 
cate it  to  the  various  circles  I  entered,  as  catch  it 
from  them.  Then,  again,  I  would  occasionally  pass  a 
silent  group  of  passengers  clustering  round  a  street- 
preacher,  who,  true  to  his  vocation,  "redeeming  the 
time,"  seemed  by  his  gestures,  and  the  disturbed  coun- 
tenances around  him,  to  be  foretelling  all  that  was  fright- 
ful. The  tone  of  excitement  which  pervaded  my  feelings, 
was  further  heightened  by  a  conversation  on  the  prevail- 
ing topic  which  I  had  in  the  course  of  the  morning  with 

the  distinguished  poet  and  scholar,  Mr. .    With  what 

fearful  force  did  he  suggest  possibilities ;  what  vivid, 
startling  coloring  did  he  throw  over  them !  It  was,  in- 
deed, a  topic  congenial  to  his  gloomy  imagination.  He 
talked  to  me,  in  short,  till  my  disturbed  fancy  began  to 
realize  the  wildest  chimeras. 

"Great  God,  Dr.  !"  said  he,  laying  his  hand  sud- 
denly on  my  arm,  his  great  black  eyes  gleaming  with 
mysterious  awe — "Think,  only  think!  What  if,  at  the 
moment  we  are  talking  together,  a  comet,  whose  track 
the  peering  eye  of  science  has  never  traced — whose  very 
existence  is  known  to  none  but  God — is  winging  its  fier}'- 
way  towards  our  earth,  swift  as  the  lightning,  and  with 
force  inevitable!  Is  it  at  this  instant  dashing  to  frag- 
ments some  mighty  orb  that  obstructed  its  progress,  and 
then  passing  on  towards  us,  disturbing  system  after  sys- 
tem on  its  way? — How — when  will  the  frightful  crash 
be  felt?  Is  its  heat  now  blighting  our  atmosphere? — 
Will  combustion  first  commence,  or  shall  we  be  at  once 
split  asunder  into  innumerable  fragments,  and  sent  drift- 
ing through  infinite  space? — Whither — whither  shall  we 
fly?  WHnat  must  become  of  our  species? — Is  the  Scrip- 
tural Judgment  then  coming? — Oh,  doctor,  what  if  all 
these  things  are  really  at  hand?" 

Was  this  imaginative  raving  calculated  to  calm  one's 


342  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

feelings? — By  the  time  1  reached  home,  late  in  the  after- 
noon, I  felt  in  a  fever  of  excitement.  I  found  an  air  of 
apprehension  throughout  the  whole  house.  My  wife, 
children,  and  a  young  lady,  a  visitor,  were  all  together  in 
the  parlor  looking  out  for  me,  through  the  window,  anx-  , 
iously — and  with  paler  faces  than  they  perhaps  were 
aware  of.    The  visitor  just  alluded  to,  by  the  way,  was  a 

Miss  Agnes  P ,  a  girl  about  twenty-one,  the  daughter 

of  an  old  friend  and  patient  of  mine.  Her  mother,  a 
widow  (with  no  other  child  than  this),  resided  in  a  vil- 
lage about  fifty  miles  from  town — from  which  she  was 
expected,  in  a  few  day's  time,  to  take  her  daughter  back 

again  into  the  country.    Miss  P was  a  very  charming 

young  woman.  There  was  a  softness  of  expression  about 
her  delicate  features,  that  in  my  opinion  constitutes  the 
highest  style  of  feminine  loveliness.  Her  dark,  pensive 
searching  eyes,  spoke  a  soul  full  of  feeling.  The  tones 
of  her  voice,  mellow  and  various,  and  her  whole  carriage 
and  demeanor,  were  in  accordance  with  the  expression  of 
her  features.  In  person  she  was  about  the  average  height, 
and  perfectly  well  moulded  and  proportioned;  and  there 
was  a  Hebe-like  ease  and  grace  about  all  her  gestures. 
She  excelled  in  most  feminine  accomplishments ;  but  her 
favorite  objects  were  music  and  romance.  A  more  imag- 
inative creature  was  surely  never  known.  It  required  all 
the  fond  and  anxious  surveillance  of  her  friends  to  pre- 
vent her  carrying  her  tastes  to  excess,  and  becoming,  in  a 
manner,  unfitted  for  the  "dull  commerce  of  a  duller 
earth !" 

No  sooner  had  this  young  lady  made  her  appearance  in 
my  house,  and  given  token  of  something  like  a  prolonged 
stay,  than  I  became  the  most  popular  man  in  the  circle 
of  my  acquaintance.  Such  assiduous  calls  to  inquire  after 
my  health,  and  that  of  my  family ! — Such  a  multitude  of 
men — young  ones,  to  boot — and  so  embarrassed  with  a 
consciousness  of  the  poorness  of  the  pretence  that  drew 
them  to  my  house !  Such  matronly  inquiries  from 
mothers  and  elderly  female  relatives,  into  the  nature  and 
extent  of  "sweet  Miss  P 's  expectations !"     During  a 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  34S 

former  stay  at  my  house,  about  six  months  before  the 

period  of  which  I  am  writing,  Miss  P surrendered 

her  affections — (to  the  delighted  surprise  of  all  her 
friends  and  relatives) — to  the  quietest,  and  perhaps 
worthiest  of  her  claimants — a  young  man,  then  preparing 
for  orders  at  Oxford.  Never,  sure,  was  there  a  greater 
contrast  between  the  tastes  of  a  pledged  couple ;  she  all 
feeling,  romance,  enthusiasm ;  he  serene,  thoughtful,  and 
matter-of-fact.  It  was  most  amusing  to  witness  their  oc- 
casional collisions  on  subjects  which  developed  their  re- 
spective tastes  and  qualities ;  and  interesting  to  note 
that  the  effect  was  invariably  to  raise  the  one  in  the 
other's  estimation — as  if  each  prized  most  the  qualities  of 
the  other. 

Young  N had   spent   two   days   in    London — the 

greater  portion  of  them,  I  need  hardly  say,  at  my  house 
— about  a  week  before  the  period  of  which  I  am  writing; 
and  he  and  his  fair  mistress  had  disputed  rather  keenly 
on  the  topic  of  general  discussion — the  predicted  event 
of  the  10th  of  July.  If  she  did  not  repose  implicit  faith  in 
the  prophecy,  her  belief  had,  somehow  or  another,  ac- 
quired a  most  disturbing  strength.  He  labored  hard  to 
disabuse  her  of  her  awful  apprehensions — and  she  as  hard 
to  overcome  his  obstinate  incredulity.  Each  was  a  little 
too  eager  about  the  matter;  and,  for  the  first  time  since 
they  had  known  each  other,  they  parted  with  a  little  cold- 
ness— yes,  although  he  was  to  set  off  the  next  morning 
for  Oxford  !  In  short,  scarcely  anything  was  talked  about 
by  Agnes  but  the  coming  10th  of  July ;  and  if  she  did  not 
anticipate  the  actual  destruction  of  the  globe,  and  the 
final  judgment  of  mankind,  she  at  least  looked  forward 
to  some  event,  mysterious  and  tremendous.  The  elo- 
quent enthusiastic  creature  almost  brought  over  my 
olacid,  little,  matter-of-fact  wife  to  her  way  of  thinking! 

To  return  from  this  long  digression — which,  however, 
will  be  presently  found  to  have  been  not  unnecessary. 
After  staying  a  few  minutes  in  the  parlor,  I  retired  to  my 
.ibrary,  for  the  purpose,  among  other  things,  of  making 
:hose  entries  in  my  Dairy,  from  which  these  "Passages" 


344  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

are  taken — but  the  pen  lay  useless  in  my  hand.  With  my 
chin  resting  on  the  palm  of  my  left  hand,  I  sat  at  my  desk 
lost  in  a  reverie ;  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  tree  which  grew  in 
the  yard  and  overshadowed  my  windows.  How  still — 
how  motionless  was  every  leaf!  What  sultry — oppres- 
sive— unusual  repose!  How  it  would  have  cheered  me 
to  hear  the  faintest  "sough"  of  wind — to  see  the  breeze 
sweep  freshening  through  the  leaves,  rustling  and  stirring 
them  into  life !  I  opened  my  window,  untied  my  necker- 
chief, and  loosened  my  shirt-collar — for  I  felt  suffocated 
with  the  heat.  I  heard  at  length  a  faint  pattering  sound 
among  the  leaves  of  the  tree — and  presently  there  fell  on 
the  window  frame  three  of  four  large  ominous  drops  of 
rain.  After  gazing  upwards  for  a  moment  or  two  on  the 
gloomy  aspect  of  the  sky — I  once  more  settled  down 
to  writing  and  was  dipping  my  pen  into  the 
inkstand,  when  there  blazed  about  me  a  flash  of 
lightning,  with  such  a  ghastly,  blinding  splendor,  as  defies 
all  description.  It  was  like  what  one  might  conceive  to 
be  a  glimpse  of  hell — and  yet  not  a  glimpse  merely — for 
it  continued,  I  think,  six  or  seven  seconds.  It  was  fol- 
lowed, at  scarce  an  instant's  interval,  with  a  crash  of 
thunder  as  if  the  world  had  been  smitten  out  of  its  sphere, 
and  was  rending  asunder ! — I  hope  these  expressions  will 
not  be  considered  hyperbolical.  No  one,  I  am  sure,  who 
recollects  the  occurrences  I  am  describing,  will  require 
the  appeal — May  I  never  see  or  hear  the  like  again !  I 
leaped  from  my  chair  in  consternation ;  and  could  think 
of  nothing  at  the  moment,  but  closing  my  eyes,  and  shut- 
ting out  from  my  ears  the  stunning  sound  of  the  thun- 
der. For  a  moment  I  stood  literally  stupified.  On  re- 
covering myself,  my  first  impulse  was  to  spring  to  the 
door,  and  rush  down-stairs  in  search  of  my  wife  and 
children.  I  heard,  on  my  way,  the  sound  of  shrieking 
proceed  from  the  parlor  in  which  I  had  left  them.  In 
a  moment  I  had  my  wife  folded  in  my  arms,  and  my 
children  clinging  with  screams  round  my  knees.  My 
wife  had  fainted.  While  I  was  endeavoring  to  restore 
her,  there  came  a  second  flash  of  lightning,  equally  ter- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  345 

rible  with  the  first — and  a  second  explosion  of  thunder, 
loud  as  one  could  imagine  the  discharge  of  a  thousand 
parks  of  artillery,  directly  over-head.  The  windows — in 
fact,  the  whole  house  quivered  with  the  shock.  The  noise 
helped  to  recover  my  Avife  from  her  swoon. 

"Kneel  down!  Love!  Husband!" — she  gasped,  endeav- 
oring to  drop  upon  her  knees — "Kneel  down !  Pray — pray 
for  us!  It  is  at  hand!"  After  shouting  several  times 
pretty  loudly,  and  pulling  the  bell  repeatedly  and  vio- 
lently, one  of  the  servants  made  her  appearance — but 
evidently  terrified  and  bewildered.  She  and  her  mistress, 
however,  recovered  themselves  in  a  few  minutes,  roused 
by  the  cries  of  the  children.  "Wait  a  moment,  love," 
said  I,  "and  I  will  bring  you  a  little  sal-volatile!"  I 
stepped  into  the  back  room,  where  I  generally  kept  a  few 
phials  of  drugs — and  poured  out  what  I  wanted.  The 
thought  then  for  the  first  time  struck  me,  that  I  had  not 

seen  Miss  P in  the  parlor  I  had  just  quitted.    Where 

was  she?  What  would  she  say  to  all  this? — God  bless 
me,  where  is  she? — I  thought,  with  increasing  trepida- 
tion. 

"Edward — Edward,"  I  exclaimed,  to  a  servant  who 
happened  to  pass  the  door  of  the  room  where  I  was  stand- 
ing;   "where's  Miss  P ?" 

"Miss  P ,  sir! — Why — I  don't — oh,  yes!"  he  re- 
plied, suddenly  recollecting  himself,  "about  five  minutes 
ago  I  saw  her  run  very  quickly  up-stairs,  and  haven't  seen 
her  since,  sir." 

"What !"  I  exclaimed  with  increasing  trepidation,  "was 
it  about  the  time  that  the  first  fiash  of  lightning  came?" 
"Yes,  it  was,  sir!" — "Take  this  in  to  your  mistress,  and 
say  ril  be  with  her  immediately,"  said  I,  giving  him  what 
I  had  mixed.  I  rushed  up-stairs,  calling  out  as  I  went, 
"Agnes!  Agnes!  where  are  you?"  I  received  no  answer. 
At  length  I  reached  the  floor  where  her  bedroom  lay. 
The  door  was  closed,  but  not  shut. 

"Agnes!  Where  are  you?"  I  inquired,  very  agitatedly, 
at  the  same  time  knocking  at  her  door.  I  received  no 
answer. 


346  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

"Agnes!  Agnes!  For  God's  sake  speak! — Speak,  or 
I  shall  come  into  your  room!"  No  reply  was  made; 
and  I  thrust  open  the  door.  Heavens!  Can  I  describe 
what  I  saw? 

Within  less  than  a  yard  of  me  stood  the  most  fearful 
figure  my  eyes  have  ever  beheld.  It  was  Agnes! — She 
was  in  the  attitude  of  stepping  to  the  door,  with  both 
arms  extended.  Her  hair  was  partially  dishevelled.  Her 
face  seemed  whiter  than  the  white  dress  she  wore.  Her 
lips  were  of  a  livid  hue.  Her  eyes,  full  of  awful  expres- 
sion, were  fixed  with  a  petrifying  stare  on  me.  Oh, 
language  fails  me — utterly! — Those  eyes  have  seldom 
since  been  absent  from  me  when  alone !  I  strove  to 
speak — but  could  not  utter  a  sound.  My  lips  seemed 
rigid  as  those  I  looked  at.  The  horrors  of  nightmare 
seemed  upon  me.  My  eyes  at  length  closed ;  my  head 
seemed  turning  round — and  for  a  moment  or  two  I  lost 
all  consciousness.  I  revived.  There  was  the  frightful 
thing   still   before    me — nay,    close    to    me.      Though    I 

looked  at  her,  I  never  once  thought  of  Agnes  P .    It 

was  the  tremendous  appearance — the  ineffable  terror 
gleaming  from  her  eyes,  that  thus  overcame  me,  I  protest 

I  cannot  conceive  anything  more  dreadful !    Miss  P 

continued  standing  perfectly  motionless ;  and  while  I  was 
gazing  at  her  in  the  manner  I  have  been  describing,  a 
peal  of  thunder  roused  me  to  my  self-possession.  I 
stepped  towards  her,  took  hold  of  her  hand,  exclaiming, 
"Agnes — Agnes!"  and  carried  her  to  the  bed,  where  I 
laid  her  down.  It  required  some  little  force  to  press  down 
her  arms ;  and  I  drew  the  eyelids  over  her  staring  eyes 
mechanically.  While  in  the  act  of  doing  so,  a  flash  of 
lightning  flickered  luridly  over  her — but  her  eyes  neither 
quivered  nor  blinked.  She  seemed  to  have  been  sud- 
dently  deprived  of  all  sense  and  motion ;  in  fact,  nothing 
but  her  pulse — if  pulse  it  should  be  called — and  faint 
breathing,  showed  that  she  lived.  My  eye  wandered  over 
her  whole  figure,  dreading  to  meet  some  scorching  trace 
of  lightning — but  there  was  nothing  of  the  kind.  What 
had  happened  to  her?    Was  she  frightened — to  death?    I 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  347 

Spoke  to  her;  I  called  her  by  her  name,  loudly;  I  shook 
her,  rather  violently.  I  might  have  acted  it  all  to  a 
statue ! — I  rang  the  chamber  bell  with  almost  frantic  vio- 
lence: and  presently  my  wife  and  a  female  servant  made 
their  appearance  in  the  room ;  but  I  was  far  more  em- 
barrassed than  assisted  by  their  presence.  "Is  she 
killed?"  murmured  the  former,  as  she  staggered  towards 
the  bed,  and  then  clung  convulsively  to  me — "Has  the 
lightning  struck  her?" 

I  was  compelled  to  disengage  myself  from  her  grasp, 
and  hurry  her  into  the  adjoining  room — whither  I  called 
a  servant  to  attend  her ;  and  then  returned  to  my  hapless 
patient.  But  what  was  I  to  do?  Medical  man  as  I  was, 
I  never  had  seen  a  patient  in  such  circumstances  and  felt 
as  ignorant  on  the  subject  as  agitated.  It  was  not 
epilepsy — it  was  not  apoplexy — a  swoon — nor  any  known 
species  of  hysteria.  The  most  remarkable  feature  of 
her  case,  and  what  enabled  me  to  ascertain  the  nature  of 
her  disease,  was  this;  that  if  I  happened  accidentally  to 
alter  the  position  of  her  limbs,  they  retained,  for  a  short 
time,  their  new  position.  If,  for  instance,  I  moved  hef 
arm — it  remained  for  a  while  in  the  situation  in 
which  I  had  last  placed  it,  and  gradually  resumed  its 
former  one.  If  I  raised  her  into  an  upright  posture,  she 
continued  sitting  so  without  the  support  of  pillows,  or 
other  assistance,  as  exactly  as  if  she  had  heard  me  ex- 
press a  wish  to  that  effect,  and  assented  to  it;  but — the 
horrid  vacancy  of  her  aspect.  If  I  elevated  one  eyelid  for 
a  moment,  to  examine  the  state  of  the  eye,  it  was  some 
time  in  closing,  unless  I  drew  it  over  myself.  All  these 
circumstances — which  terrified  the  servant  who  stood 
shaking  at  my  elbow,  and  muttering,  "She's  possessed! 
she's  possessed! — Satan  has  herl"  convinced  me  at 
length  that  the  unfortunate  girl  was  siezed  with  cata- 
lepsy ;  that  rare  mysterious  affection,  so  fearfully  blend- 
ing the  conditions  of  life  and  death — presenting — so  to 
speak — life  in  the  aspect  of  death,  and  death  in  that  of 
life !  I  felt  no  doubt  that  extreme  terror,  operating  sud- 
denly on  a  nervous  system  most  highly  excited,  and  a 


348  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

vivid,  active  fancy,  had  produced  the  effects  I  saw. 
Doubtless  the  first  terrible  outbreak  of  the  thunder-storm 
— especially  the  fierce  splendor  of  that  first  flash  of  light- 
ning which  so  alarmed  myself — apparently  corroborating 
and  realizing  all  her  awful  apprehensions  of  the  predicted 
event,  overpowered  her  at  once,  and  flung  her  into  the 
fearful  situation  in  which  I  found  her — that  of  one  ar- 
rested in  her  terror-struck  flight  towards  the  door  of  her 
chamber.  But  again — the  thought  struck  me — had  she 
received  any  direct  injury  from  the  lightning?  Had  it 
blinded  her?  It  might  be  so — for  I  could  make  no  im- 
pression on  the  pupils  of  the  eyes.  Nothing  could  startle 
them  into  action.  They  seemed  a  little  more  dilated  than 
usual,  and  fixed. 

I  confess  that,  besides  the  other  agitating  circumstan- 
ces of  the  moment,  this  extraordinary,  this  unprecedented 
case,  too  much  distracted  my  self-possession  to  enable  me 
promptly  to  deal  with  it.  I  had  heard  and  read  of,  but 
never  before  seen  such  a  case.  No  time,  however,  was  to 
be  lost.  I  determined  to  resort  at  once  to  strong  anti- 
spasmodic treatment.  I  bled  her  from  the  arm  freely, 
applied  blisters  behind  the  ears,  immersed  her  feet,  which, 
together  with  her  hands,  were  cold  as  those  of  a  statue,  in 
hot  water,  and  endeavored  to  force  into  her  mouth  a  lit- 
tle opium  and  ether.  Whilst  the  servants  were  busied 
about  her  undressing  her,  and  carrying  my  directions 
into  effect,  I  stepped  for  a  moment  into  the  adjoining 
room,  where  I  found  my  wife  just  recovering  from  a 
violent  fit  of  hysterics.  Her  loud  laughter,  though  so 
near  me,  I  had  not  once  heard,  so  absorbed  was  I  with 

the  mournful  case  of  Miss  P .    After  continuing  with 

her  till  she  recovered  sufficiently  to  accompany  me  down- 
stairs, I  returned  to  Miss  P 's  bedroom.  She  con- 
tinued exactly  in  the  condition  in  which  I  had  left  her. 
Though  the  water  was  hot  enough  almost  to  parboil  her 
tender  feet,  it  produced  no  sensible  effect  on  the  circu- 
lation, or  the  state  of  the  skin ;  and  finding  a  strong  de- 
termination of  blood  towards  the  regions  of  the  head  and 
neck,     I     determined     to     have     her     cupped     between 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  349 

the  shoulders.  I  went  down-stairs  to  drop  a  line  to  the 
apothecary,  requesting  him  to  come  immediately  with  his 
cupping  instruments.  As  I  was  delivering  the  note  into 
the  hands  of  a  servant,  a  man  rushed  up  to  the  open  door 
where  I  was  standing,  and,  breathless  with  haste,  begged 
my  instant  attendance  on  a  patient  close  by,  who  had 
just  met  with  a  severe  accident.  Relying  on  the  immedi- 
ate arrival  of  Mr. ,  the  apothecary,  I  put  on  my  hat 

and  greatcoat,  took  my  umbrella,  and  followed  the  man 
who  had  summoned  me  out.  It  rained  in  torrents ;  for 
the  storm,  after  about  twenty  minutes'  intermission,  burst 
forth  again  with  unabated  violence.  The  thunder  and 
lightning — peal  upon  peal — blaze  upon  blaze,  were  really 
terrific! 

The  patient  who  thus  abruptly,  and  under  the  circum- 
stances, inopportunely  required  my  services,  proved  to  be 

one  Bill  ,  a  notorious  boxer,  who,  in  returning  that 

evening  from  a  great  prize-fight,  had  been  thrown  out  of 
his  gig,  the  horse  having  been  frightened  by  the  lightning-, 
and  the  rider,  who  was  much  the  worse  for  liquor,  had  his 
ankle  dreadfully  dislocated.  He  had  been  taken  up  by 
some  passengers,  and  conveyed  with  great  difficulty  to 
his  own  residence,  a  public-house,  not  three  minutes' 
walk  from  where  I  lived.  The  moment  I  entered  the  tap- 
room, which  I  had  to  pass  on  my  way  to  the  staircase, 
I  heard  his  groans,  or  rather  howls,  over-head.  The  ex- 
citement of  intoxication,  added  to  the  agonies  occasioned 
by  his  accident,  had  driven  him,  I  was  told,  nearly  mad. 
He  was  uttering  the  most  revolting  execrations  as  I  en- 
tered his  room.  He  damned  himself,  his  ill  luck  (for  it 
seemed  he  had  lost  considerable  sums  on  the  fight),  the 
combatants,  the  horse  that  threw  him,  the  thunder  and 
lightning — everything,  in  short,  and  everybody  about 
him.  The  sound  of  the  thunder  was  sublime  melody  to 
me,  and  the  more  welcome,  because  it  drowned  the  blas- 
phemous bellowings  of  the  monster  I  was  visiting.  Yes ; 
there  lay  the  burly  boxer,  stretched  upon  the  bed,  with 
none  of  his  dress  removed  except  the  boot,  which  had 
been  cut  from  the  limb  that  was  injured — his  new  blue 


350  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

coat,  with  glaring  yellow  buttons,  and  drab  knee- 
breeches,  soiled  with  the  street  mud  into  which  he  had 
been  precipitated — his  huge  limbs,  writhing  in  restless 
agony  over  the  bed — his  fists  clenched,  and  his  flat,  iron- 
featured  face  swollen  and  distorted  with  pain  and  fury. 

"But,  my  good  woman,"  said  I,  pausing  at  the  door, 
addressing  myself  to  the  boxer's  wife,  who,  wringing  her 
hands,  had  conducted  me  up-stairs,  "I  assure  you  I  am 
not  the  person  you  should  have  sent  to.  It's  a  surgeon's 
not  a  physician's  case ;  I  fear  I  can't  do  much  for  him — 
quite  out  of  my  way " 

"Oh,  for  God's  sake — for  the  love  of  God,  don't  say 
so !"  gasped  the  poor  creature  with  affrighted  emphasis 
— "Oh,  do  something  for  him,  or  he'll  drive  us  all  out  of 
our  senses — he'll  be  killing  us !" 

"Do  something!" roared  my  patient,  who  had  overheard 
the  last  words  of  his  wife,  turning  his  bloated  face  to- 
wards me — "do  something,  indeed?    Ay,  and  be  to 

you !  Here,  here  look  ye,  doctor — look  ye  here !"  he  con- 
tinued pointing  to  the  wounded  foot,  which,  all  crushed 
and  displaced,  and  the  stocking  soaked  with  blood,  pre- 
sented a  shocking  appearance — "look  here,  indeed ! ! — ah  ! 

that horse !  that horse !"  his  teeth  gnashed,  and 

his  right  hand  was  lifted  up,  clenched,  with  fury — "If  I 

don't  break  every  bone  in  his body,  as  soon  as  ever 

I  can  stir  this  cursed  leg  again !" 

I  felt  for  a  moment  as  though  I  had  entered  the  very 
pit  and  presence  of  Satan,  for  the  lightning  was  gleaming 
over  his  ruffianly  figure  incessantly,  and  the  thunder 
rolling  close  overhead  while  he  was  speaking. 

"Hush  !  hush  !  you'll  drive  the  doctor  away !    For  pity's 

sake  hold  your  tongue,  or  Doctor won't  come  into 

the  room  to  you !"  gasped  his  wife,  dropping  on  her  knees 
beside  him. 

"Ha,  ha!    Let  him  go!    Only  let  him  stir  a  step,  and 

lame  as  I  am,  me  if  I  don't  jump  out  of  bed,  and 

teach  him  civility!  Here,  you  doctor,  as  you  call  your- 
self! What's  to  be  done?"  Really  I  was  too  much 
shocked,  at  the  moment,  to  know.    I  was  half  inclined  to 


The  Sick  Wife 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  351 

leave  the  room  immediately,  and  had  a  fair  plea  for  doing 
so  in  the  surgical  nature  of  the  case ;  but  the  agony  of  the 
fellow's  wife  induced  me  to  check  my  outraged  feelings, 
and  stay.  After  directing  a  person  to  be  sent  off,  in  my 
name,  for  the  nearest  surgeon,  I  addressed  myself  to  my 
task,  and  proceeded  to  remove  the  stocking.  His  whole 
body  quivered  with  the  anguish  it  occasioned ;  and  I  saw 
such  fury  gathering  in  his  features,  that  I  began  to  dread 
lest  he  might  rise  up  in  a  sudden  frenzy,  and  strike  me. 

"Oh !  oh !  oh !  Curse  your  clumsy  hands !  You  don't 
know  no  more  nor  a  child,"  he  groaned,  "what  you're 
about.  Leave  it — leave  it  alone !  Give  over  with  ye ! 
Doctor, ,  I  say,  be  off !" 

"Mercy,  mercy,  doctor!"  sobbed  his  wife  in  a  whis- 
per, fearing  from  my  momentary  pause  that  I  was  go- 
ing to  take  her  husband  at  his  word — "Don't  go  away ! — 
Oh,  go  on — go  on  !  It  must  be  done,  you  know !  Never 
mind  what  he  says!  He's  only  a  little  the  worse  for 
liquor  now — and — and  then  the  pain !  Go  on,  doctor ! 
He'll  thank  you  the  more  for  it  to-morrow !" 

"Wife !  here !"  shouted  her  husband.  The  woman  in- 
stantly stepped  up  to  him.  He  stretched  out  his  Her- 
culean arm,  and  grasped  her  by  the  shoulder. 

"So,  you !  I'm  drunk,  am  I?   I'm  drunk,  eh — you 

lying !"  he  exclaimed,  and  jerked  her  violently  away, 

right  across  the  room,  to  the  door,  where  the  poor  crea- 
ture fell  down,  but  presently  rose,  crying  bitterly. 

"Get  away!  Get  off — get  down-stairs — if  you  don't 
want  me  to  serve  you  the  same  again!  Say  I'm  drunk, 
you  beast?"  With  frantic  gestures  she  obeyed,  rushed 
down-stairs,  and  I  was  left  alone  with  her  husband.  I 
was  disposed  to  follow  her  abruptly;  but  the  positive 
dread  of  my  life  (for  he  might  leap  out  of  bed  and  kill  me 
with  a  blow)  kept  me  to  my  task.  My  flesh  crept  with 
disgust  at  touching  his!  I  examined  the  wound,  which 
undoubtedly  must  have  given  him  torture  enough  to 
drive  him  mad,  and  bathed  it  in  warm  water ;  resolved  to 
pay  no  attention  to  his  abuse,  and  quit  the  instant  that 
the  surgeon,  who  had  been  sent  for,  made  his  appearance. 


352  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

At  length  he  came.  I  breathed  more  freely,  resigned  the 
case  into  his  hands,  and  was  going  to  take  up  my  hat 
when  he  begged  me  to  continue  in  the  room,  with  such  an 
earnest,  appehensive  look,  that  I  reluctantly  remained. 
I  saw  he  dreaded  as  much  being  left  alone  with  his  pa- 
tient as  I !  It  need  hardly  be  said  that  every  step  that 
was  taken  in  dressing  the  wound,  was  attended  with  the 
vilest  execrations  of  the  patient.  Such  a  foul-mouthed 
ruffian  I  never  encountered  anywhere.  It  seemed  as 
though  he  was  possessed  of  a  devil.  What  a  contrast  to 
the  sweet  speechless  sufferer  whom  I  have  left  at  home, 
and  to  whom  my  heart  yearned  to  return ! 

The  storm  still  continued  raging.  The  rain  had  com- 
paratively ceased,  but  the  thunder  and  lightning  made 
their  appearance  with  fearful  frequency  and  fierceness. 
I  drew  down  the  blind  of  the  window,  observing  to  the 
surgeon  that  the  lightning  seemed  to  startle  our  patient. 

"Put  it  up  again !  Put  up  that  blind  again,  I  say !"  he 
cried  impatiently.  "D'ye  think  I'm  afeared  of  the  light- 
ning, like  my horse  to-day?  Put  it  up  again — or  I'll 

get  out  and  do  it  myself !"  I  did  as  he  wished.  Reproof  or 
expostulation  was  useless.  "Ha !"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  low 
tone  of  fury,  rubbing  his  hands  together — in  a  manner 
bathing  them  in  the  fiery  stream,  as  a  flash  of  lightning 
gleamed  ruddily  over  him.    "There  it  is !     Curse  it — just 

the  sort  of  flash  that  frightened  my  horse  — d it!" — 

and  the  impious  wretch  shook  his  fist,  and  "grinned  hor- 
ribly a  ghastly  smile." 

"Be  silent,  sir!  Be  silent!  or  we  will  both  leave  you 
instantly.  Your  behavior  is  impious!  It  is  frightful  to 
witness!  Forebear — lest  the  vengeance  of  God  descend 
upon  you!" 

"Come,  come — none  o'  your Methodism  here !    Go 

on  with  your  business  1  Stick  to  your  trade,"  interrupted 
the  Boxer. 

"Does  not  that  rebuke  your  blasphemies?"  I  inquired, 
suddenly  shading  my  eyes  from  the  vivid  stream  of 
lightning  that  burst  into  the  room,  while  the  thunder 
rattled  overhead — evidently  in  most  dreadful  proximity. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  353 

When  I  removed  my  hands  from  my  eyes,  and  opened 
them,  the  first  object  that  they  fell  upon  was  the  figure 
of  the  Boxer,  sitting  upright  in  bed,  with  both  hands 
stretched  out,  just  as  those  of  Elymas  the  Sorcerer  in  the 
picture  by  Raphael — his  face  the  color  of  a  corpse — and 
his  eyes,  almost  starting  out  of  their  sockets,  directed 
with  a  horrid  stare  towards  the  window.  His  lips  moved 
not — nor  did  he  utter  a  sound.  It  was  clear  what  had 
occurred.  The  wrathful  fire  of  heaven,  that  had  glanced 
harmlessly  around  us,  had  blinded  the  blasphemer.  Yes 
— the  sight  of  his  eyes  had  perished.  While  we  were 
gazing  at  him  in  silent  awe,  he  fell  back  in  bed  speechless, 
and  clasped  his  hands  over  his  breast,  seemingly  in  an  at- 
titude of  despair.     But  for  that  motion,  we  should  have 

thought  him  dead.    Shocked  beyond  expression,  Mr. 

paused  in  his  operations.  I  examined  the  eyes  of  the  pa- 
tient. The  pupils  were  both  dilated  to  their  utmost  ex- 
tent, and  immovable.  I  asked  him  many  questions,  but 
he  answered  not  a  word.  Occasionally,  however,  a  groan 
of  horror,  remorse,  agony  (or  all  combined),  would  burst 
from  his  pent  bosom ;  and  this  was  the  only  evidence  he 
gave  of  consciousness.  He  moved  over  on  his  right  side 
— his  "pale  face  turned  to  the  wall" — and,  unclasping 
his  hands,  pressed  the  forefinger  of  each  with  convulsive 

force  upon  the  eyes.     Mr. proceeded  with  his  task. 

What  a  contrast  between  the  present  and  past  behavior 
of  our  patient!  Do  what  we  would — put  him  to  never 
such  great  pain — he  neither  uttered  a  syllable,  nor  ex- 
pressed any  symptoms  of  passion,  as  before.  There  was, 
however,  no  necessity  for  my  continuing  any  longer;  so 

I  left  the  case  in  the  hands  of  Mr. ,  who  undertook  to 

acquaint  Mrs.  with  the  frightful  accident  that  had 

happened  to  her  husband.  What  two  scenes  had  I  wit- 
nessed that  evening! 

I  hurried  home  full  of  agitation  at  the  spectacle  I  had 
just  quitted,  and  melancholy  apprehensions  concerning 
the  one  to  which  I  was  returning.  On  reaching  my  lovely 
patient's  room,  I  found,  alas!  no  sensible  eflFects  produced 
by  the  very  active  means  which  had  been  adopted.     She 


354  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

lay  in  bed,  the  aspect  of  her  features  apparently  the  same 
as  when  I  last  saw  her.  Her  eyes  were  closed — her 
cheeks  very  pale,  and  mouth  rather  open,  as  if  she  were 
on  the  point  of  speaking.  The  hair  hung  in  a  little  dis- 
order on  each  side  of  her  face,  having  escaped  from  be- 
neath her  cap.  My  wife  sat  beside  her,  grasping  her  right 
hand — weeping  and  almost  stupefied ;  and  the  servant 
that  was  in  the  room  when  I  entered,  seemed  so  bewil- 
dered as  to  be  worse  than  useless.  As  it  was  now  getting 
dark,  I  ordered  candles.  I  took  one  of  them  in  my  hand, 
opened  her  eyelids,  and  passed  and  repassed  the  candle 
several  times  before  her  eyes,  but  it  produced  no  ap- 
parent efifect.  Neither  the  eyelids  blinked,  nor  the 
pupils  contracted.  I  then  took  out  my  penknife,  and 
made  a  thrust  with  the  open  blade,  as  though  I  intended 
to  plunge  in  into  her  right  eye;  it  seemed  as  if  I  might 
have  buried  the  blade  in  the  socket,  for  all  the  shock  or  re- 
sistance called  forth  by  the  attempt.  I  took  her  hand  in 
mine — having  for  a  moment  displaced  my  wife — and 
found  it  damp  and  cold ;  but  when  I  suddenly  left  it  sus- 
pended, it  continued  so  for  a  few  moments,  and  only 
gradually  resumed  its  former  position.  I  pressed  the 
back  of  the  blade  of  my  penknife  upon  the  flesh  at  the  root 
of  the  nail  (as  every  one  knows,  a  very  tender  part),  but 
she  evinced  not  the  slightest  sensation  of  pain,  I  shouted 
suddenly  and  loudly  in  her  ears,  but  with  similar  ill  suc- 
cess.   I  felt  at  an  extremity. 

Completely  baffled  at  all  points — discouraged  and  agi- 
tated beyond  expression — I  left  Miss  P in  the  care  of 

a  nurse,  whom  I  had  sent  for  to  attend  upon  her,  at  the 
instance  of  my  wife,  and  hastened  to  my  study  to  see  if 
my  books  could  throw  any  light  upon  the  nature  of  this, 
to  me,  new  and  inscrutable  disorder.  After  hunting 
about  for  some  time,  and  finding  but  little  to  the  purpose, 
I  prepared  for  bed,  determining  in  the  morning  to  send 

of¥  for  Miss  P 's  mother,  and  Mr.  N from  Oxford, 

and  also  to  call  upon  my  eminent  friend  Dr.  D ,  and 

hear  what  his  superior  skill  and  experience  might  be 
able  to  suggest.    In  passing  Miss  P 's  room,  I  stepped 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  355 

in  to  take  my  farewell  for  the  evening.  "Beautiful,  un- 
fortunate creature!"  thought  I,  as  I  stood  gazing  mourn- 
fully on  her,  with  my  candle  in  my  hand,  leaning  against 
the  bed-post.  "What  mystery  is  upon  thee?  What  awful 
change  has  come  over  thee? — the  gloom  of  the  grave  and 
the  light  of  life — both  lying  upon  thee  at  once !  Is  thy 
mind  palsied  as  thy  body?  How  long  is  this  strange  state 
to  last?  How  long  art  thou  doomed  to  linger  thus  on 
the  confines  of  both  worlds,  so  that  those  in  either,  who 
love  thee,  may  not  claim  thee?  Heaven  guide  our 
thoughts  to  discover  a  remedy  for  thy  fearful  disorder !" 
I  could  not  bear  to  look  upon  her  any  longer;  and  after 
kissing  her  lips,  hurried  up  to  bed,  charging  the  nurse  to 
summon  me  the  moment  that  any  change  whatever  was 

perceptible  in  Miss  P . 

I  dare  say,  I  shall  be  easily  believed  when  I  apprise  the 
reader  of  the  troubled  night  that  followed  such  a  troubled 
day.  The  thunder-storm  itself,  coupled  with  the  predic- 
tions of  the  day,  and  apart  from  its  attendant  incidents 
that  have  been  mentioned,  was  calculated  to  leave  an  aw- 
ful and  permanent  impression  on  one's  mind,  "If  I  were 
to  live  a  century,  I  could  not  forget  it,"  said  a  distin- 
guished writer,  in  a  letter  to  me.  "The  thunder  and 
lightning  were  more  appalling  than  I  ever  recollect  wit- 
nessing, even  in  the  West  Indies — that  region  of  storms 
and  hurricanes.  The  air  had  bee»  long  surcharged  with 
electricity;  and  I  predicted  several  days  beforehand  that 
we  should  have  a  storm  of  very  unusual  violence.  But 
when  with  this  we  couple  the  strange  prophecy  that 
gained  credit  with  a  prodigious  number  of  those  one 
would  have  expected  to  be  above  such  things — neither 
more  nor  less  than  that  the  world  was  to  come  to  an  end 
on  that  very  day,  and  the  judgment  of  mankind  to  follow  ; 
I  say,  the  coincidence  of  the  events  was  not  a  little  sin- 
gular, and  calculated  to  inspire  common  folk  with  wonder 
and  fear.  I  dare  say,  if  one  could  but  find  them  out,  that 
there  were  instances  of  people  frightened  out  of  their 
wits,  on  the  occasion.  I  own  to  you  candidly  that  I,  for 
one,  felt  a  little  squeamish,  and  had  not  a  little  difficulty 


356  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

in  bolstering  up  my  courage  with  Virgil's  Felix  qui  poiuit 
reriim  cognoscere  causas."  etc. 

I  did  not  so  much  sleep  as  doze  interruptedly  for  the 
first  three  or  four  hours  after  getting  into  bed.  I,  as  well 
as  my  alarmed  Emily,  would  start  up  occasionally,  and  sit 
listening,  under  the  apprehension  that  we  heard  a  shriek 

or  some  other  such  sound,  proceed  from  Miss  P 's 

room.  The  image  of  the  blinded  Boxer  flitted  in  fearful 
forms  about  me,  my  ears  seemed  to  ring  with  his  curses. 
It  must  have  been,  I  should  think,  between  two  and  three 
o'clock,  when  I  dreamed  that  I  leaped  out  of  bed,  under 
an  impulse  sudden  as  irresistible — slipped  on  my  dressing- 
gown,  and  hurried  down-stairs  to  the  back  drawing-room. 
On  opening  the  door,  I  found  the  room  lit  up  with  funeral 
tapers,  and  the  apparel  of  a  dead-room  spread  about.  At 
the  further  end  lay  a  coffin  on  trestles,  covered  with  a  long 
sheet,  with  the  figure  of  an  old  woman  sitting  beside  it, 
with  long  streaming  white  hair,  and  her  eyes,  bright  as 
the  lightning,  directed  towards  me  with  a  fiendish  stare 
of  exultation.  Suddenly  she  rose  up — pulled  off  the  sheet 
that    had    covered    the    coffin — pushed    aside    the    lid — 

plucked  out  the  body  of  Miss  P ,  dashed  it  on  the 

floor,  and  trampled  upon  it  with  apparent  triumph !  This 
horrid  dream  awoke  me,  and  haunted  my  waking 
thoughts.    May  I  never  pass  such  a  dismal  night  again ! 

I  rose  from  my  bed  in  the  morning  feverish  and  un- 
refreshed ;  and  in  a  few  minutes'  time  hurried  to  Miss 

P 's  room.    The  mustard  applications  to  the  soles  of 

the  feet,  together  with  the  blisters  behind  the  ears,  had 
produced  the  usual  local  effects,  without  affecting  the 
complaint.  Both  her  pulse  and  breathing  continued  calm. 
The  only  change  perceptible  in  the  color  of  her  counten- 
ance was  a  slight  pallor  about  the  upper  part  of  the 
cheeks,  and  I  fancied  there  was  an  expression  about  her 
mouth  approaching  to  a  smile.  She  had,  I  found,  con- 
tinued throughout  the  night,  motionless  and  silent  as  a 
corpse.  With  a  profound  sigh  I  took  my  seat  beside  her, 
and  examined  the  eyes  narrowly,  but  perceived  no  change 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  357 

in  Ihem.     What  was  to  be  done?    How  was  she  to  be 
roused  from  this  fearful — if  not  fatal  lethargy? 

While  I  was  gazing  intently  on  her  features,  I  fancied 
that  I  perceived  a  slight  muscular  twitching  about  the 
nostrils.  I  stepped  hastily  down-stairs  (just  as  a  drown- 
ing man,  they  say,  catches  at  a  straw)  and  returned  with 
a  phial  of  the  strongest  solution  of  ammonia,  which  I  ap- 
plied freely  with  a  feather  to  the  interior  of  the  nostrils. 
This  attempt  also  was  unsuccessful  as  the  former  ones. 
I  cannot  describe  the  feelings  with  which  I  witnessed 
these  repeated  failures  to  stimulate  her  torpid  sensibili- 
ties into  action ;  and  not  knowing  what  to  say  or  do,  I 
returned  to  dress,  with  feelings  of  unutterable  despon- 
dency. While  dressing,  it  struck  me  that  a  blister  might 
be  applied  with  success  along  the  whole  course  of  the 
spine.  The  more  I  thought  of  this  expedient,  the  more 
feasible  it  appeared ; — it  would  be  such  a  direct  and 
powerful  appeal  to  the  nervous  system — in  all  probability 
the  very  seat  and  source  of  the  disorder!  I  ordered  one 
to  be  sent  for  instantly — and  myself  applied  it,  before  I 
went  down  to  breakfast.  As  soon  as  I  had  despatched  the 
few  morning  patients  that  called,  I  wrote  imperatively  to 
Mr.  N at  Oxford,  and  to  Miss  P 's  mother,  en- 
treating them  by  all  the  love  they  bore  Agnes  to  come 

to  her  instantly.    I  then  set  out  for  Dr.  D 's  whom  I 

found  just  starting  on  his  daily  visits.  I  communicated 
the  whole  case  to  him.  He  listened  with  interest  to  my 
statement,  and  told  me  he  had  once  a  similar  case  in  his 
own  practice,  which,  alas !  terminated  fatally,  in  spite  of 
the  most  anxious  and  combined  efforts  of  the  elite  of  the 
faculty  in  London.  He  approved  of  the  course  I  had 
adopted — most  especially  the  blister  on  the  spine ;  and 
earnestly  recommended   me  to   resort  to   galvanism — if 

Miss  P should  not  be  relieved  from  the  fit  before  the 

evening — when  he  promised  to  call,  and  assist  in  carrying 
into  effect  what  he  recommended. 

"Is  it  the  beautiful  girl  I  saw  in  your  pew  last  Sun- 
day, at  church?"  he  inquired  suddenly. 

"The  same — the  same  !" — I  replied  with  a  sigh. 


358  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

Dr.  D continued  silent  for  a  moment  or  two. 

"Poor  creature !"  he  exclaimed  with  an  air  of  deep  con- 
cern, "one  so  beautiful !  Do  you  know  I  thought  I  now 
and  then  perceived  a  very  remarkable  expression  in  her 
eye,  especially  while  that  fine  voluntary  was  playing.  Is 
she  an  enthusiast  about  music?" 

"Passionately — devotedly " 

"We'll  try  it!"  he  replied  briskly;  with  a  confident 
air — "We'll  try  it!  First  let  us  disturb  the  nervous  tor- 
por with  a  slight  shock  of  galvanism,  and  then  try  the 
effect  of  your  organ." 

I  listened  to  the  suggestion  with  interest,  but  was  not 
quite  so  sanguine  in  my  expectations  as  my  friend  ap- 
peared to  be. 

In  the  whole  range  of  disorders  that  affect  the  human 
frame,  there  is  perhaps  not  one  so  mysterious,  so  incapa- 
ble of  management,  as  that  which  afflicted  the  truly  un- 
fortunate young  lady  whose  case  I  am  narrating.  It 
has  given  rise  to  infinite  speculation,  and  is  admitted, 
I  believe,  on  all  hands  to  be — if  I  may  so  speak — a  noso- 
logical anomaly.  Van  Swieten  vividly  and  picturesquely 
enough  compares  it  to  that  condition  of  the  body,  which, 
according  to  ancient  fiction,  was  produced  in  the  behold- 
er by  the  appalling  sight  of  Medusa's  head — 

"Saxifici  Medusas  vultus." 

The  medical  writers  of  antiquity  have  left  evidence  of  the 
existence  of  this  disease  in  their  day — but  given  the  most 
obscure  and  unsatisfactory  descriptions  of  it,  confound- 
ing it,  in  many  instances,  with  other  disorders — apo- 
plexy, epilepsy,  and  swooning.  Celsus,  according  to  Van 
Swieten,  describes  such  patients  as  these  in  question  un- 
der the  term  ''attoniti,"  which  is  a  translation  of  the  title 
I  have  prefixed  to  this  paper :  while,  in  our  own  day,  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Cullen  classes  it  as  a  species  of  apoplexy, 
at  the  same  time  stating  that  he  had  never  seen  a  genuine 
instance  of  catalepsy.  He  had  always  found,  he  says, 
those  cases,  which  were  reported  such,  to  be  feigned 
ones.     More  modern  science,  however,  distinctly  recog- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 


359 


nizes  the  disease  as  one  peculiar  and  independent ;  and  is 
borne  out  by  numerous,  unquestionable  cases  of  cata- 
lepsy, recorded  by  some  of  the  most  eminent  members 
of  the  profession. 

Dr.  Jebb,  in  particular,  in  the  appendix  to  his  "Select 
Cases  of  Paralysis  of  the  Lower  Extremities,"  relates  a 
remarkable  and  affecting  instance  of  a  cataleptic  patient. 
As  it  is  not  likely  that  general  readers  have  met  with  this 
interesting  case,  I  shall  here  transcribe  it.  The  young 
lady  who  was  the  subject  of  the  disorder,  was  seized  with 
the  fit  when  Dr.  Jebb  was  announced  on  his  first  visit. 

"She  was  employed  in  netting,  and  was  passing  the 
needle  through  the  mesh ;  in  which  position  she  imme- 
diately became  rigid,  exhibiting,  in  a  very  pleasing  form, 
a  figure  of  death-like  sleep,  beyond  the  power  of  art  to 
imitate,  or  the  imagination  to  conceive.  Her  forehead 
was  serene,  her  features  perfectly  composed.  The  pale- 
ness of  her  color — her  breathing  being  also  scarcely  per- 
ceptible at  a  distance — operated  in  rendering  the  simili- 
tude to  marble  more  exact  and  striking.  The  position  of 
the  fingers,  hands,  and  arms  was  altered  with  difficulty, 
but  preserved  every  form  of  flexure  they  acquired.  Nor 
were  the  muscles  of  the  neck  exempted  from  this  law; 
her  head  maintaining  every  situation  in  which  the  hand 
could  place  it,  as  firmly  as  her  limbs, 

"Upon  gently  raising  the  eyelids,  they  immediately 
closed  with  a  degree  of  spasm.*  The  iris  contracted 
upon  the  approach  of  a  candle,  as  in  a  state  of  vigilance. 
The  eyeball  itself  was  slightly  agitated  with  a  tremulous 
motion,  not  discernible  when  the  eyelid  had  descended. 
About  half  an  hour  after  my  arrival,  the  rigidity  of  her 
limbs  and  statue-like  appearance  being  yet  unaltered,  she 
sung  three  plaintive  songs  in  a  tone  of  voice  so  elegantly 
expressive,  and  with  such  affecting  modulation,  as  evi- 
dently pointed  out  how  much  the  most  powerful  passion 
of  the  mind  was  concerned  in  the  production  of  her  dis- 
order— as,  indeed,  her  history  confirmed.     In  a  few  min- 

*This  was  not  the  case  with  Miss  P .  I  repeatedly  re- 
marked the  perfect  mobility  of  her  eyelids. 


360  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

utes  afterwards  she  sighed  deeply,  and  the  spasm  in  her 
limbs  was  immediately  relaxed.  She  complained  that  she 
could  not  open  her  eyes,  her  hands  grew  cold,  a  general 
tremor  followed;  but  in  a  few  seconds,  recovering  en- 
tirely her  recollection  and  powers  of  motion,  she  entered 
into  a  detail  of  her  symptoms,  and  the  history  of  her  com- 
plaint. After  she  had  discoursed  for  some  time  with  ap- 
parent calmness,  the  universal  spasm  suddenly  returned. 
The  features  now  assumed  a  different  form,  denoting  a 
mind  strongly  impressed  with  anxiety  and  apprehension. 
At  times  she  uttered  short  and  vehement  exclamations, 
in  a  piercing  tone  of  voice,  expressive  of  the  passions 
that  agitated  her  mind ;  her  hands  being  strongly  locked 
in  each  other,  and  all  her  muscles,  those  subservient  to 
speech  excepted,  being  affected  with  the  same  rigidity 
as  before." 

But  the  most  extraordinary  case  on  record  is  one  given 
by  Dr.  Petetin,  a  physician  of  Lyons,  in  which  "the 
senses  were  transferred  to  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  and  the 
ends  of  the  fingers  and  toes — i.  e.  the  patient,  in  a  state 
of  insensibility  to  all  external  impressions  upon  their 
proper  organs  of  sense,  was  nevertheless  capable  of 
hearing,  seeing,  smelling,  and  tasting  whatever  was  ap- 
proached to  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  or  the  ends  of  the 
fingers  and  toes !  The  patient  is  said  to  have  answered 
questions  proposed  to  the  pit  of  the  stomach — to  have 
told  the  hour  by  a  watch  placed  there — to  have  tasted 
food,  and  smelt  the  fragrance  of  apricots,  touching  the 
part,"  etc.,  etc.  It  may  be  interesting  to  add,  that  an  emi- 
nent physician,  who  went  to  see  the  patient,  incredulous 
of  what  he  had  heard,  returned  perfectly  convinced  of 
its  truth.  I  have  also  read  somewhere  of  a  Spanish  monk, 
who  was  so  terrified  by  a  sudden  sight  which  he  encoun- 
tered in  the  Asturias  mountains,  that  when  several  of  his 
holy  brethren,  whom  he  had  preceded  a  mile  or  two,  came 
up,  they  found  him  stretched  upon  the  ground  in  the 
fearful  condition  of  a  cataleptic  patient.  They  carried 
him  back  immediately  to  their  monastery,  and  he  was 
believed  dead.     He  suddenly  revived,   however,  in  the 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  361 

midst  of  his  funeral  obsequies,  to  the  consternation  of  all 
around  him.  When  he  had  perfectly  recovered  the  use  of 
his  faculties,  he  related  some  absurd  matters  which  he 
pretended  to  have  seen  during  his  comatose  state.  The 
disorder  in  question,  however,  generally  makes  its  ap- 
pearance in  the  female  sex,  and  seems  to  be  in  many,  if 
not  in  most  instances,  a  remote  member  of  the  family  of 
hysterical  affections. 

On  arriving  home  from  my  daily  round,  in  which  my 
dejected  air  was  remarked  by  all  the  patients  I  had  vis- 
ited, I  found  no  alteration  whatever  in  Miss  P .   The 

nurse  had  failed  in  forcing  even  arrow-root  down  her 
mouth,  and,  finding  it  was  not  swallowed,  was  compelled 
to  desist,  for  fear  of  choking  her.  We  were,  therefore, 
obliged  to  resort  to  other  means  of  conveying  support  to 
her  exhausted  frame.  The  blister  on  the  spine,  from 
which  I  had  expected  so  much,  and  the  renewed  sina- 
pisms to  the  feet,  had  failed  to  make  any  impression! 
Thus  was  every  successive  attempt,  utter  failure!  The 
disorder  continued  absolutely  inaccessible  to  the  ap- 
proaches of  medicine.  The  baffled  attendants  could  but 
look  at  her,  and  lament.  Good  God !  was  Agnes  to  con- 
tinue in  this  dreadful  condition  till  her  energies  sunk  in 
death?  What  would  become  of  her  lover? — of  her  moth- 
er? These  considerations  greatly  disturbed  my  peace  of 
mind.  I  could  neither  think,  read,  eat,  nor  remain  any- 
v>rhere  but  in  the  chamber,  where,  alas !  my  presence  was 
so  unavailing! 

Dr.  D made  his  appearance  soon  after  dinner ;  and 

we  proceeded  at  once  to  the  room  where  our  patient  lay. 
Though  a  little  paler  than  before,  her  features  were 
placid  as  those  of  chiseled  marble.  Notwithstand- 
ing all  she  had  suflfered,  and  the  fearful  situation  in  which 
she  lay  at  that  moment,  she  still  looked  beautiful.  Her 
cap  was  off,  and  her  rich  auburn  hair  lay  negligently  on 
each  side  of  her,  upon  the  pillow.  Her  forehead  was 
white  as  alabaster.  She  lay  with  her  head  turned  a  little 
on  one  side,  and  her  two  small  white  hands  were  clasped 
together  over  her  bosom.   'This  was  the  nurse's  arrange- 


362  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

ment:  for  "poor  dear  young  lady,"  she  said,  "I  couldn't 
bear  to  see  her  laid  straight  along,  with  her  arms  close 
beside  her  like  a  corpse,  so  I  tried  to  make  her  look  as 
much  asleep  as  possible !"  The  impression  of  beauty, 
however,  conveyed  by  her  symmetrical  and  tranquil  fea- 
tures, was  disturbed  as  soon  as,  lifting  up  the  eyelids,  we 
saw  the  fixed  stare  of  the  eyes.  They  were  not  glassy,  or 
corpse-like,  but  bright  as  those  of  life,  with  a  little  of  the 
dreadful  expression  of  epilepsy.  We  raised  her  in  bed, 
and  she,  as  before,  sat  upright,  but  with  a  blank,  absent 
aspect,  that  was  lamentable  and  unnatural.  Her  arms, 
when  lifted  and  left  suspended,  did  not  fall,  but  sunk 
down  again  gradually.  We  returned  her  gently  to  her 
recumbent  posture,  and  determined  at  once  to  try  the 
effect  of  galvanism  upon  her. 

My  machine  was  soon  brought  into  the  room;  and 
when  we  had  duly  arranged  matters,  we  directed  the 
nurse  to  quit  the  chamber  for  a  short  time,  as  the  effect 
of  galvanism  is  generally  found  to  be  too  startling  to  be 
witnessed  by  a  female  spectator.    I  wish  I  had  not  myself 

seen  it  in  the  case  of  Miss  P !     Her  color  went  and 

came — her  eyelids  and  mouth  started  open — and  she 
stared  wildly  about  her,  with  the  aspect  of  one  starting 
out  of  bed  in  a  fright.  I  thought  at  one  moment  that 
the  horrid  spell  was  broken,  for  she  sat  up  suddenly, 
leaned  forward  toward  me,  and  her  mouth  opened  as 
though  she  were  about  to  speak ! 

"Agnes !  Agnes !  dear  Agnes !  Speak,  speak !  but  a 
word!  Say  you  live!"  I  exclaimed,  rushing  forward. 
Alas!  she  heard  me — she  saw  me — not,  but  fell  back  in 
her  former  state!  When  the  galvanic  shock  was  con- 
veyed to  her  limbs,  it  produced  the  usual  effects — dread- 
ful to  behold  in  all  cases — but  agonizing  to  me  in  the  case 

of  Miss  P .    The  last  subject  on  which  I  had  seen  the 

effects  of  galvanism,  previous  to  the  present  instance, 
was  the  body  of  an  executed  malefactor ;  and  the  associa- 
tions revived  on  the  present  occasion  were  almost  too 
painful  to  bear.  I  begged  my  friend  to  desist,  for  I  saw 
the  attempt  was  hopeless,  and  I  would  not  allow  her  ten- 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  363 

der  frame  to  be  agitated  to  no  purpose.  My  mind  mis- 
gave me  for  ever  making  the  attempt.  What,  thought  I, 
if  we  have  fatally  disturbed  the  nervous  system,  and  pros- 
trated the  small  remains  of  strength  she  has  left? 

While  I  was  torturing  myself  with  such  fears  as  these, 
Dr. laid  down  the  rod,  with  a  melancholy  air,  ex- 
claiming, "Well!  what  is  to  be  done  now?  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  sanguine  I  was  about  the  success  of  this  ex- 
periment! *  *  Do  you  know  whether  she  ever 
had  a  fit  of  epilepsy?"  he  inquired. 

"No — not  that  I  am  aware  of.  I  never  heard  of  it,  if 
she  had." 

"Had  she  generally  a  horror  of  thunder  and  lightning?" 

"Oh — quite  the  contrary!  she  felt  a  sort  of  ecstasy  on 
such  occasions,  and  has  written  some  beautiful  verses 
during  their  continuance.  Such  seemed  rather  her  hour 
of  inspiration  than  otherwise  1" 

"Do  you  think  the  lightning  itself  has  affected  her? — 
Do  you  think  her  sight  is  destroyed?" 

"I  have  no  means  of  knowing  whether  the  immobility 
of  the  pupils  arises  from  blindness,  or  is  only  one  of  the 
temporary  effects  of  catalepsy." 

"Then  she  believed  the  prophecy,  you  think,  of  the 
world's  destruction  on  Tuesday?" 

"No — I  don't  think  she  exactly  believed  it;  but  I  am 
sure  that  day  brought  with  it  awful  apprehensions,  or  at 
least,  a  fearful  degree  of  uncertainty." 

"Well^between  ourselves, ,  there  was  something 

very  strange  in  the  coincidence,  was  not  there?  Nothing 
in  life  ever  shook  my  firmness  as  it  was  shaken  yester- 
day! I  almost  fancied  the  earth  was  quivering  in  its 
sphere!" 

"It  was  a  dreadful  day! — One  I  shall  never  forget! 
That  is  the  image  of  it,"  I  exclaimed,  pointing  to  the  poor 
sufferer — "which  will  be  engraven  on  my  mind  as  long 
as  I  live!    But  the  worst  is  perhaps  yet  to  be  told  you: 

Mr.  N ,  her  lover,  to  whom  she  was  very  soon  to  have 

been  married,  he  will  be  here  shortly  to  see  her " 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Dr.  D ,  clasping  his  hands. 


364  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

eyeing  Miss  P with  intense  commiseration — ^"What 

a  fearful  bride  for  him !" 

"I  dread  his  coming — I  know  not  what  we  shall  do! 
And  then  there's  her  mother,  poor  old  lady! — ^lier  I  have 
written  to,  and  expect  almost  hourly  1" 

"Why,  what  an  accumulation  of  shocks  and  miseries! 
— it  will  be  upsetting  you!"  said  my  friend,  seeing  my 
distressed  appearance. 

"Well,"  he  continued,  "I  cannot  now  stay  here  longer 
— your  misery  is  catching;  and,  besides,  I  am  most 
pressingly  engaged ;  but  you  may  rely  on  my  services,  if 
you  should  require  them  in  any  way." 

My  friend  took  his  departure,  leaving  me  more  discon- 
solate than  ever.  Before  retiring  to  bed,  I  rubbed  in 
mustard  upon  the  chief  surfaces  of  the  body,  hoping, 
though  faintly,  that  it  might  have  some  effect  in  rousing 
the  system.  I  kneeled  down,  before  stepping  into  bed, 
and  earnestly  prayed,  that  as  all  human  efforts  seemed 
baffled,  the  Almighty  would  set  her  free  from  the  mortal 
thraldom  in  which  she  lay,  and  restore  her  to  life,  and 
those  who  loved  her  more  than  life !  Morning  came — 
it  found  me  by  her  bedside  as  usual,  and  her  in  no  wise 
altered,  apparently  neither  better  nor  worse !  If  the  un- 
varying monotony  of  my  description  should  fatigue  the 
reader,  what  must  the  actual  monotony  and  hopelessness 
have  been  to  me ! 

While  I  was  sitting  beside  Miss  P ,  I  heard  my 

youngest  boy  come  down-stairs,  and  ask  to  be  let  into  the 
room.  He  was  a  little  fair-haired  youngster,  about  three 
years  of  age,  and  had  always  been  an  especial  favorite 

of  Miss  P 's — her  "own  sweet  pet" — as  the  poor  girl 

herself  called  him.  Determined  to  throw  no  chance 
away,  I  beckoned  him  in,  and  took  him  on  my  knee.    He 

called  to  Miss  P ,  as  if  he  thought  her  asleep ;  patted 

her  face  with  his  little  hands,  and  kissed  her.  "Wake, 
wake! — Cousin  Aggy,  get  up!"  he  cried — "Papa  say  'tis 
time  to  get  up!    Do  you  sleep  with  eyes  open?* — Eh? — 

*I  had  been  examining  her  eyes,  and  had  only  half  closed' the 
lids. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  365 

Cousin  Aggy?"  He  looked  at  her  intently  for  some  mo- 
ments, and  seemed  frightened.  He  turned  pale,  and 
struggled  to  get  off  my  knee.  I  allowed  him  to  go,  and 
he  ran  to  his  mother,  who  was  standing  at  the  foot  of 
the  bed,  and  hid  his  face  behind  her. 

I  passed  breakfast-time  in  great  apprehension,  ex- 
pecting the  two  arrivals  I  have  mentioned.  I  knew  not 
how  to  prepare  either  the  mother  or  the  betrothed  hus- 
band for  the  scene  that  awaited  them,  and  which  I  had 
not  particularly  described  to  them.  It  was  with  no  little 
trepidation  that  I  heard  the  startling  knock  of  the  gen- 
eral postman ;  and  with  infinite  astonishment  and  doubt 
that  I  took  out  of  the  servant's  hands  a  letter  from  Mr. 

N for  poor  Agnes !  For  a  while  I  knew  not  what  to 

make  of  it.    Had  he  received  the  alarming  express  I  had 

forwarded  to  him  ;  and  did  he  write  to  Miss  P ?    Or 

was  he  unexpectedly  absent  from  Oxford  when  it  ar- 
rived? The  latter  supposition  was  corroborated  by  the 
postmark,  which  I  observed  was  Lincoln.  I  felt  it  my 
duty  to  open  the  letter.    Alas !  it  was  in  a  gay  strain — un- 

visually  gay  for  N ;  informing  Agnes  that  he  had  been 

suddenly  summoned  into  Lincolnshire,  to  his  cousin's 
wedding,  where  he  was  very  happy,  both  on  account  of 
his  relative's  happiness,  and  the  anticipation  of  a  similar 
scene  being  in  store  for  himself!  Every  line  was  buoy- 
ant with  hope  and  animation ;  but  the  postscript  most  af- 
fected me. 

"P.  S.— The  tenth  of  July,  by  the  way,  my  Agnes !  Is 
it  all  over  with  us,  sweet  Phythonissa?  Are  you  and  I 
at  this  moment  on  separate  fragments  of  the  globe?  I 
shall  seal  my  conquest  over  you  with  a  kiss  when  I  see 
you!  Remember,  you  parted  from  me  in  a  pet,  naughty 
one! — and  kissed  me  rather  coldly!  But  that  is  the  way 
that  your  sex  always  end  arguments,  when  you  are  van- 
quished !" 

I  read  these  lines  in  silence; — my  wife  bursting  into 
tears.     I  hastened  to  send  a  second  summons  to  Mr. 

N ,  and  directed  it  to  him  in  Lincoln,  where  he  had 

requesr.eQ  Miss  F to  address  him.    Without  explain- 


366  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

ing  the  precise  nature  of  Miss  P 's  seizure,  I  gave  him 

warning  that  he  must  hurry  up  to  town  instantly ;  and 
that,  even  then,  it  was  doubtful  whether  he  would  see 
her  alive.  After  this  little  occurrence,  I  could  hardly 
trust  myself  to  go  up-stairs  again,  and  look  upon  the  un- 
fortunate girl.  My  heart  fluttered  at  the  door,  and  when 
I  entered  I  burst  into  tears.  I  could  utter  no  more  than 
the  words,  "poor — poor  Agnes !"  and  withdrew. 

I  was  shocked,  and  indeed  enraged,  to  find,  in  one  of 
the  morning  papers,  a  paragraph  stating,  though  inaccu- 
rately, the  nature  of  Miss  P 's  illness.     Who  could 

have  been  so  unfeeling  as  to  make  the  poor  girl  an  object 
of  public  wonder  and  pity.  I  never  ascertained,  though 
I  made  every  inquiry,  from  whom  the  intelligence  was 
communicated. 

One  of  my  patients  that  day  happened  to  be  a  niece 

of  the  venerable  and  honored  Dean  of  ,  at  whose 

house  she  resided.  He  was  in  the  room  when  I  called ; 
and  to  explain  what  he  called  "the  gloom  of  my  man- 
ner," I  gave  him  a  full  account  of  the  melancholy  event 
which  had  occurred.  He  listened  to  me  till  the  tears  ran 
down  his  face. 

"But  you  have  not  yet  tried  the  effect  of  music — of 
which  you  say  she  is  so  fond !  Do  not  you  intend  to  re- 
sort to  it?"  I  told  him  it  was  our  intention,  and  that 
our  agitation  was  the  only  reason  why  we  did  not  try 
the  effect  of  it  immediately  after  the  galvanism. 

"Now,  doctor,  excuse  an  old  clergyman,  will  you?" 
said  the  venerable  and  pious  dean,  laying  his  hand  on  my 
arm ;  "and  let  me  suggest  that  the  experiment  may  not  be 
the  less  successful,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  if  it  be  intro- 
duced in  the  course  of  a  religious  service.  Come,  doc- 
tor, what  say  you?"    I  paused. 

"Have  you  any  objection  to  my  calling  at  your  house 
this  evening  and  reading  the  service  appointed  by  our 
church  for  the  visitation  of  the  sick?  It  will  not  be  diffi- 
cult to  introduce  the  most  solemn  and  affecting  strains 
of  music,  or  to  let  it  precede  or  follow."  Still  I  hesitated 
— and  yet  I  scarce  knew  why.    "Come,  doctor,  you  know 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  367 

I  am  no  enthusiast — I  am  not  generally  considered  a 
fanatic.  Surely  when  man  has  done  his  best,  and  fails,  he 
should  not  hesitate  to  turn  to  God !"  The  good  old  man's 
words  sunk  into  my  soul,  and  diffused  in  it  a  cheerful  and 
humble  hope  that  the  blessing  of  Providence  would  at- 
tend the  means  suggested.  I  acquiesced  in  the  dean's 
proposal  with  delight,  and  even  eagerness ;  and  it  was 
arranged  that  he  should  be  at  my  house  between  seven 
and  eight  o'clock  that  evening.  I  think  I  have  already 
observed  that  I  had  an  organ,  a  very  fine  and  powerful 
one,  in  my  back  drawing-room ;  and  this  instrument  had 

been  the  eminent  delight  of  poor  Miss  P .  She  would 

sit  down  at  it  for  hours  together,  and  her  performance 
would  not  have  disgraced  a  professor.  I  hoped  that  on 
the  eventful  occasion  that  was  approaching,  the  tones 
of  her  favorite  instrument,  with  the  blessing  of  Heaven, 
might  rouse  a  slumbering  responsive  chord  in  her 
bosom,  and  aid  in  dispelling  the  cruel  "charm  that  dead- 
ened her."  She  certainly  could  not  last  long  in  the  condi- 
tion in  which  she  now  lay.  Everything  that  medicine 
could  do,  had  been  tried — in  vain ;  and  if  the  evening's 
experiment — our  forlorn  hope,  failed — we  must,  though 
with  a  bleeding  heart,  submit  to  the  will  of  Providence, 
and  resign  her  to  the  grave.  I  looked  forward  with  in- 
tense anxiety — with  alternate  hope  and  fear — to  the  en- 
gagement of  the  evening. 

On  returning  home,  late  in  the  afternoon,  I  found  poor 
Mrs.  P had  arrived  in  town,  in  obedience  to  my  sum- 
mons;  and  heart-breaking,  I  learned,  was  her  first  inter- 
view, if  such  it  may  be  called,  with  her  daughter.  Her 
groans  and  cries  alarmed  the  whole  house,  and  even  ar- 
rested the  attention  of  the  neighbors.  I  had  left  instruc- 
tions, that  in  case  of  her  arrival  during  my  absence,  she 
should  be  shown  at  once,  without  any  precautions,  into 

the  presence  of  Miss  P ;  with  the  hope,  faint  though 

it  was,  that  the  abruptness  of  her  appearance,  and  the 
violence  of  her  grief  might  operate  as  a  salutary  shock 
upon  the  stagnant  energies  of  her  daughter.  "My  child! 
my  child!  my  child!"  she  exclaimed,  rushing  up  to  the 


368  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

bed  with  frantic  haste,  and  clasping  the  insensible  form 
of  her  daughter  in  her  arms,  there  she  held  her  till  she 
fell  fainting  into  those  of  my  wife.  What  a  dread  con- 
trast was  there  between  the  frantic  gestures — the  pas- 
sionate lamentations  of  the  mother,  and  the  stony  silence 
and  motionlessness  of  the  daughter!  One  little  but  affect- 
ing incident  occurred  in  my  presence.  Mrs.  P (as  yet 

unacquainted  with  the  peculiar  nature  of  her  daughter's 

seizure)   had  snatched   Miss   P 's  hand  to   her  lips, 

kissed  it  repeatedly,  and  suddenly  let  it  go,  to  press  her 
own  hand  upon  her  head,  as  if  to  repress  a  rising  hysteri- 
cal feeling.     Miss  P 's  arm,  as  usual,  remained  for  a 

moment  or  two  suspended,  and  only  gradually  sunk  down 
upon  the  bed.  It  looked  as  if  she  voluntarily  continued  it 
in  that  position,  with  a  cautioning  air.  Methinks  I  see 
at  this  moment  the   afifrighted   stare  with  which   Mrs. 

P regarded  the  outstretched  arm,  her  body  recoiling 

from  the  bed,  as  though  she  expected  her  daughter  were 
about  to  do  or  appear  something  dreadful !  I  subse- 
quently learned  from  Mrs.  P that  her  mother,  the 

grandmother  of  Agnes,  was  reported  to  have  been  twice 
affected  in  a  similar  manner,  though  apparently  from  a 
different  cause ;  so  that  there  seemed  something  like  a 

hereditary  tendency  towards  it,  even  though  Mrs.  P 

herself  had  never  experienced  anything  of  the  kind. 

As  the  memorable  evening  advanced,  the  agitation  of 
all  who  were  acquainted  with,  or  interested  in  the  ap- 
proaching   ceremony,    increased.      Mrs.    P ,    I    need 

hardly  say,  embraced  the  proposal  with  thankful  eager- 
ness. About  half-past  seven,  my  friend,  Dr.  D ,  ar- 
rived, pursuant  to  his  promise ;  and  he  was  soon  after- 
wards followed  by  the  organist  of  the  neighboring  church 
— an  old  acquaintance,  and  who  was  a  constant  visitor  at 
my  house,  for  the  purpose  of  performing  and  giving  in- 
instructions  on  the  organ.  I  requested  him  to  commence 
playing  Martin  Luther's  hymn — the  favorite  one  of 
Agnes — as  soon  as  she  should  be  brought  into  the  room. 
About  eight  o'clock,  the  dean's  carriage  drew  up.  I  met 
him  at  the  door. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  369 

"Peace  be  to  this  house,  and  to  all  that  dwell  in  it!" 
he  exclaimed  as  soon  as  he  entered,  I  led  him  up-stairs ; 
and,  without  uttering  a  word,  he  took  the  seat  prepared 
for  him,  before  a  table  on  which  lay  a  Bible  and  Prayer- 
Book.  After  a  moment's  pause,  he  directed  the  sick  per- 
son to  be  brought  into  the  room.  I  stepped  up-stairs, 
where  I  found  my  wife,  with  the  nurse,  had  finished 

dressing  Miss  P .     I  thought  her  paler  than  usual, 

and  that  her  cheeks  seemed  hollower  than  when  I  had 
last  seen  her.  There  was  an  air  of  melancholy  sweetness 
and  languor  about  her,  that  inspired  the  beholder  with 
the  keenest  sympathy.  With  a  sigh,  I  gathered  her  slight 
form  into  my  arms,  a  shawl  was  thrown  over  her,  and, 
followed  by  my  wife  and  the  nurse,  who  supported  Mrs. 

P ,  I  carried  her  down-stairs,  and  placed  her  in  an 

easy  recumbent  posture,  in  a  large  old  family  chair, 
w^hich  stood  between  the  organ  and  the  dean's  table. 
How  strange  and  mournful  was  her  appearance!  Her 
luxuriant  hair  was  gathered  up  beneath  a  cap,  the  white- 
ness of  which  was  equaled  by  that  of  her  countenance. 
Her  eyes  were  closed;  and  this,  added  to  the  paleness  of 
her  features,  her  perfect  passiveness,  and  her  being  en- 
veloped in  a  long  white  unruffled  morning  dress,  which 
appeared  not  unlike  a  shroud  at  first  sight — made  her 
look  rather  a  corpse  than  a  living  being !  As  soon  as  Dr. 
D and  I  had  taken  seats  on  each  side  of  our  poor  pa- 
tient, the  solemn  strains  of  the  organ  commenced.  I 
never  appreciated  music,  and  especially  the  sublime 
hymn  of  Luther,  so  much  as  on  that  occasion.    My  eyes 

were  fixed  with  agonizing  scrutiny  on  Miss  P .    Bar 

after  bar  of  the  music  melted  on  the  ear,  and  thrilled 
upon  the  heart ;  but,  alas !  produced  no  more  effect  upon 
the  placid  sufferer  than  the  pealing  of  an  abbey  organ 
en  the  statues  around !  My  heart  began  to  misgive  me : 
if  this  one  last  experiment  failed!  When  the  music 
ceased  we  all  kneeled  down,  and  the  dean  in  a  solemn 
tone  of  voice,  commenced  reading  appropriate  passages 
from  the  service  for  the  visitation  of  the  sick.  When  he 
had  concluded  the  71st  Psalm,  he  approached  the  chair 


370  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

of  Miss  P ,  dropped  upon  one  knee,  held  her  right 

hand  in  his,  and  in  a  somewhat  tremulous  voice,  read 
the  following  affecting  verses  from  the  8th  chapter  of  St. 
Luke: — 

"While  he  yet  spake,  there  cometh  one  from  the  ruler 
of  the  synagogue's  house,  saying  to  him,  Thy  daughter  is 
dead ;  trouble  not  the  master. 

"But  when  Jesus  heard  it,  he  answered  him,  saying. 
Fear  not ;  believe  only,  and  she  shall  be  made  whole. 

"And  when  he  came  into  the  house,  he  suffered  no  man 
to  go  in,  save  Peter,  and  James,  and  John,  and  the  father 
and  mother  of  the  maiden.  And  all  wept  and  bewailed 
her:  but  he  said,  Weep  not;  she  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth. 
And  they  laughed  him  to  scorn,  knowing  that  she  was 
dead. 

"And  he  put  them  all  out,  and  took  her  by  the  hand, 
and  called,  saying.  Maid,  arise.  And  her  spirit  came  again, 
and  she  arose  straightzvay." 

While  he  was  reading  the  passage  which  I  have 
marked  in  italics,  my  heated  fancy  almost  persuaded  me 

that  I  saw  the  eyelids  of  Miss  P moving.    I  trembled 

from  head  to  foot;  but,  alas!  it  was  a  delusion. 

The  dean,  much  affected,  was  proceeding  with  the  fif- 
ty-fifth verse,  when  such  a  tremendous  and  long  contin- 
ued knocking  was  heard  at  the  street  door  as  seemed 
likely  to  break  it  open.  Every  one  started  up  from  his 
knees,  as  if  electrified — all  moved  but  unhappy  Agnes — 
and  stood  in  silent  agitation  and  astonishment.  Still  the 
knocking  was  continued,  almost  without  intermission. 
My  heart  suddenly  misgave  me  as  to  the  cause. 

"Go — go — see  if" — stammered  my  wife,  pale  as  ashes 
— endeavoring  to  prop  up  the  drooping  mother  of  our 
patient.  Before  any  one  had  stirred  from  the  spot  on 
which  he  was  standing,  the  door  was  burst  open,  and  in 
rushed  Mr.  N ,  wild  in  his  aspect,  frantic  in  his  ges- 
ture, and  his  dress  covered  with  dust  from  head  to  foot. 
We  stood  gazing  at  him  as  though  his  appearance  had 
petrified  us. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  371 

"Agnes! — My  Agnes!"  he  exclaimed,  as  if  choked  for 
want  of  breath. 

"Agnes! — Come!"  he  gasped,  while  a  smile  appeared 
on  his  face  that  had  a  gleam  of  madness  in  it. 

"Mr.  N !  what  are  you  about?     For  mercy's  sake, 

be  calm !  Let  me  lead  you,  for  a  moment,  into  another 
room,  and  all  shall  be  explained!"  said  I,  approaching 
and  grasping  him  firmly  by  the  arm. 

"Agnes!"  he  continued  in  a  tone  that  made  us  trem- 
ble.    He  moved  towards  the  chair  in  which  Miss  P 

lay.  I  endeavored  to  interpose,  but  he  thrust  me  aside. 
The  venerable  dean  attempted  to  dissuade  him,  but  met 
with  no  better  a  reception  than  myself. 

"Agnes !"  he  reiterated  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  "why 
won't  you  speak  to  me?  what  are  they  doing  to  you?" 
He  stepped  within  a  foot  of  the  chair  where  she  lay — 
calm  and  immovable  as  death.  We  stood  by  watching 
his  movements,  in  terrified  apprehension  and  uncertainty. 
He  dropped  his  hat,  which  he  had  been  grasping  with 
convulsive  force,  and  before  any  one  could  prevent  him, 
or  even  suspect  what  he  was  about,  he  snatched  Miss 

P out  of  the  chair,  and  compressed  her  in  his  arms 

with  frantic  force,  while  a  delirious  laugh  burst  from  his 
lips.  We  rushed  forward  to  extricate  her  from  his 
grasp.  His  arms  gradually  relaxed — he  muttered, 
"Music!  music!  a  dance!"  and  almost  at  the  moment 

that  we  removed  Miss  P from  him,  fell  senseless  into 

the  arms  of  the  organist.     Mrs.  P had  fainted ;  my 

wife  seemed  on  the  verge  of  hysterics ;  and  the  nurse  was 
crying  violently.  Such  a  scene  of  trouble  and  terror  I 
have  seldom  witnessed!  I  hurried  with  the  poor  uncon- 
scious girl  up-stairs,  laid  her  upon  the  bed,  shut  and 
bolted  the  door  after  me,  and  hardly  expected  to  find  her 
alive ;  her  pulse,  however,  was  calm  as  it  had  been 
throughout   the    seizure.     The    calm    of   the   Dead    Sea 

seemed  upon  her. 

***** 

I  feel,  however,  that  I  should  not  protract  these  pain- 
ful scenes ;  and  shall  therefore  hurry  to  their  close.    The 


373  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

first  letter  which  I  had  despatched  to  Oxford  after  Mr. 
N ,  happened  to  bear  on  the  outside  the  words,  "spe- 
cial haste !"  which  procured  its  being  forwarded  by  ex- 
press after  Mr.  N .    The  consternation  with  which  he 

received  and  read  it  may  be  imagined.  He  set  off  for 
town  that  instant  in  a  post-chaise  and  four ;  but  finding 
their  speed  insufficient,  he  took  to  horseback  for  the  last 
fifty  miles,  and  rode  at  a  rate  which  nearly  destroyed 
both  horse  and  rider.  Hence  his  sudden  appearance  at 
my  house,  and  the  frenzy  of  his  behavior !  After  Miss 
P had  been  carried  up-stairs,  it  was  thought  im- 
prudent for  Mr.  N to  continue  at  my  house,  as  he  ex- 
hibited every  symptom  of  incipient  brain  fever,  and 
might  prove  wild  and  unmanageable.  He  was  therefore 
removed  at  once  to  a  house  within  a  few  doors  off,  which 
was  let  out  in  furnished  lodgings.  Dr.  D accom- 
panied him,  and  bled  him  immediately,  very  copiously. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  Mr.  N owed  his  life  to  that 

timely  measure.  He  was  placed  in  bed,  and  put  at  once 
under  the  most  vigorous  antiphlogistic  treatment. 

The  next  evening  beheld  Dr.  D ,  the  Dean  of , 

and  myself  around  the  bedside  of  Agnes.  All  of  us  ex- 
pressed the  most  gloomy  apprehensions.  The  dean  had 
been  offering  up  a  devout  and  most  affecting  prayer. 

"Well,  my  friend,"  said  he  to  me,  "she  is  in  the  hands 
of  God,  All  that  man  can  do  has  been  done;  let  us  re- 
sign ourselves  to  the  will  of  Providence !" 

"Ay,  nothing  but  a  miracle  can  save  her,  I  fear,"  re- 
plied Dr. . 

"How  much  longer  do  you  think  it  probable,  humanly 
speaking,  that  the  system  can  continue  in  this  state,  so 
as  to  give  hopes  of  ultimate  recovery?"  inquired  the  dean. 

"I  cannot  say,"  I  replied  with  a  sigh.  "She  must  sink, 
and  speedily.  She  has  not  received,  since  she  was  first 
seized,  as  much  nourishment  as  would  serve  for  an  in- 
fant's meal !" 

"I  have  an  impression  that  she  will  die  suddenly," 
said  Dr.  D ;  "possibly  within  the  next  twelve  hours; 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  373 

for  I  cannot  understand  how  her  energies  can  recover 
from,  or  bear  longer,  this  fearful  paralysis!" 

"Alas,  I  fear  so  too !" 

"I  have  heard  some  frightful  instances  of  premature 
burial  in  cases  like  this,"  said  the  dean.  "I  hope  you 
will  not  think  of  committing  her  remains  to  the  earth, 
before  you  are  satisfied,  beyond  a  doubt,  that  life  is  ex- 
tinct." I  made  no  reply — my  emotions  nearly  choked 
me — I  could  not  bear  to  contemplate  such  an  event. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Dr.  D ,  with  an  apprehensive 

air,  "1  have  been  thinking  latterly  of  the  awful  possi- 
bility, that,  notwithstanding  the  stagnation  of  her  phy- 
sical powers,  her  mind  may  be  sound,  and  perfectly  con- 
scious of  all  that  has  transpired  about  her  1" 

"Why — why,"  stammered  the  dean,  turning  pale — 
"what  if  she  has  heard  all  that  has  been  said  !"* 

"Ay !"  replied   Dr.   D ,  unconsciously   sinking  his 

voice  to  a  whisper,  "I  know  of  a  case — in  fact,  a  friend 

of  mine  has  just  published  it — in  which  a  woman " 

There  was  a  faint  knocking  at  the  door,  and  I  stepped  to 
it,  for  the  purpose  of  inquiring  w^hat  was  wanted.  While 
I  was  in  the  act  of  closing  it  again,  I   overheard  Dr. 

D 's    voice    exclaim    in    an    affrighted    tone,    "Great 

God !"  and  on  turning  round,  I  saw  the  dean  moving 
from  the  bed,  his  face  white  as  ashes,  and  he  fell  from 
his  chair  as  if  in  a  fit.  How  shall  I  describe  what  I  saw 
on  approaching  the  bed? 

The  moment  before  I  had  left  Miss  P lying  in  her 

usual  position,  and  with  her  eyes  closed.  They  were 
now  wide  open,  and  staring  upwards  with  an  expression 
I  have  no  language  to  describe.  It  reminded  me  of  what 
I  had  seen  when  I  first  discovered  her  in  the  fit.  Blood, 
too,  was  streaming  from  her  nostrils  and  mouth — in 
short,  a  more  frightful  spectacle  I  never  witnessed.     In 

a  moment,  both  Dr.  D and  I  seemed  to  have  lost  all 

power  of  motion.    Here,  then,  was  the  spell  broken  !  The 

*In  almost  every  known  instance  of  recovery  from  catalepsy, 
the  patients  have  declared  that  they  heard  every  word  that  had 
been  uttered  beside  them! 


374  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

trance  was  over ! — I  implored  Dr.  D to  recollect  him- 
self and  conduct  the  dean  from  the  room,  while  I  would 

attend  to  Miss  P .     The  nurse  was  instantly  at  my 

side,  but  violently  agitated.  She  quickly  procured  warm 
water,  sponges,  cloths,  etc.,  with  which  she  at  once  wiped 
away  and  encouraged  the  bleeding.  The  first  sound  ut- 
tered by  Miss  P was  a  long  deep-drawn  sigh,  which 

seemed  to  relieve  her  bosom  of  an  intolerable  sense  of 
oppression.  Her  eyes  gradually  closed  again,  and  she 
moved  her  head  away,  at  the  same  time  raising  her  trem- 
bling right  hand  to  her  face.  Again  she  sighed — again 
opened  her  eyes,  and,  to  my  delight,  their  expression  was 
more  natural  than  before.  She  looked  languidly  about 
her  for  a  moment,  as  if  examining  the  bed-curtains — 
and  her  eyes  closed  again.  I  sent  for  some  weak  brandy- 
and-water,  and  gave  her  a  little  in  a  teaspoon.  She  swal- 
lowed it  with  great  difficulty.  I  ordered  some  warm 
water  to  be  got  ready  for  her  feet,  to  equalize  the  circu- 
lation ;  and  while  it  was  preparing,  sat  by  her  watching 
every  motion  of  her  features  with  the  most  eager  anx- 
iety. "How  are  you,  Agnes?"  I  whispered.  She  turned 
languidly  towards  me,  opened  her  eyes,  and  shook  her 
head  feebly — but  gave  me  no  answer. 

"Do  you  feel  pain  anywhere?"  I  inquired.  A  faint 
smile  stole  about  her  mouth,  but  she  did  not  utter  a  syl- 
lable. Sensible  that  her  exhausted  condition  required 
repose,  I  determined  not  to  tax  her  newly-recovered  en- 
ergies ;  so  I  ordered  her  a  gentle  composing  draught  and 
left  her  in  the  care  of  the  nurse,  promising  to  return  by 
and  by,  to  see  how  my  sweet  patient  went  on.  I  found 
that  the  dean  had  left.  After  swallowing  a  little  wine 
and  water,  he  recovered  sufficiently  from  the  shock  he 

had  received,  to  be  able,  with  Dr.  D 's  assistance,  to 

step  into  his  carriage,  leaving  his  solemn  benediction  for 
Miss  P . 

As  it  was  growing  late,  I  sent  my  wife  to  bed,  and  or- 
dered coffee  in  my  study,  whither  I  retired,  and  sat  lost 
in  conjecture  and  reverie  till  nearly  one  o'clock.  I  then 
repaired  to  my  patient's  room ;  but  my  entrance  startled 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  375 

her  from  a  sleep  that  had  lasted  almost  since  I  had  left. 
As  soon  as  I  sat  down  by  her,  she  opened  her  eyes — and 
my  heart  leaped  with  joy  to  see  their  increasing  calmness 
— their  expression  resembling  what  had  oft  delighted  me 
while  she  was  in  health.  After  eyeing  me  steadily  for  a 
few   moments,  she   seemed   suddenly   to   recognize   me. 

"Doctor !"   she   whispered,   in   the   faintest  possible 

whisper,  while  a  smile  stole  over  her  languid  features. 
I  gently  grasped  her  hand ;  and  in  doing  so  my  tears  fell 
upon  her  cheek. 

"How  strange !"  she  whispered  again  in  a  tone  as  feeble 
as  before.  She  gently  moved  her  hand  into  mine,  and 
I  clasped  the  trembling  lilied  fingers,  with  an  emotion  I 
cannot  express.  She  noticed  my  agitation ;  and  the  tears 
came  into  her  eyes,  while  her  lip  quivered,  as  though  she 
were  going  to  speak.  I  implored  her,  however,  not  to 
utter  a  word,  till  she  was  better  able  to  do  it  without  ex- 
haustion ;  and,  lest  my  presence  should  tempt  her  beyond 
her  strength,  I  bade  her  good-night — her  poor  slender 
fingers  once  more  compressed  mine — and  I  left  her  to  the 
care  of  the  nurse,  with  a  whispered  injunction  to  step 
to  me  instantly  if  any  change  took  place  in  Agnes.  I 
could  not  sleep !  I  felt  a  prodigious  burden  removed 
from  my  mind ;  and  woke  my  wife  that  she  might  share 
in  my  joy. 

I  received  no  summons  during  the  night;  and  on  en- 
tering her  room  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  I 

found  that  Miss  P had  taken  a  little  arrow-root  in 

the  course  of  the  night,  and  slept  calmly,  with  but  few 
intervals.  She  had  sighed  frequently ;  and  once  or  twice 
conversed  for  a  short  time  with  the  nurse  about  heaven 
— as  I  understood.  She  was  much  stronger  than  I  ex- 
pected to  find  her.  I  welcomed  her  affectionately,  and 
she  asked  me  how  I  was — in  a  tone  that  surprised  me  by 
its  strength  and  firmness. 

"Is  the  storm  over?"  she  inquired,  looking  towards  the 
window. 

"Oh  yes — long,  long  ago!"  I  replied,  seeing  at  once 


376  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

that  she  seemed  to  have  no  consciousness  of  the  interval 
that  had  elapsed. 

"And  are  you  all  well? — Mrs. "  (my  wife),  "how 

is  she?" 

"You  shall  see  her  shortly." 

"Then  no  one  was  hurt?" 

"Not  a  hair  of  our  heads!" 

"How  frightened  I  must  have  been !" 

"Poh,  poh,  Agnes !    Nonsense !    Forget  it !" 

"Then — the  world  is  not — there  has  been  no — is  all 
the  same  as  it  was?"  she  murmured,  eyeing  me  appre- 
hensively. 

"The  world  come  to  an  end — do  you  mean?"  She 
nodded,  with  a  disturbed  air — "Oh,  no,  no!  It  was 
merely  a  thunder-storm." 

"And  it  is  quite  over,  and  gone?" 

"Long  ago!  Do  you  feel  hungry?"  I  inquired,  hoping 
to  direct  her  thoughts  from  a  topic  I  saw  agitated  her. 

"Did  you  ever  see  such  lightning?"  she  asked,  with- 
out regarding  my  question. 

"Why — certainly  it  was  very  alarming." 

"Yet,  it  was !  Do  you  know,  doctor,"  she  continued, 
with  a  mysterious  air — "I — I — saw — yes — there  were 
strange  faces  in  the  lightning." 

"Come,  child,  you  rave!" 

— "They  seemed  coming  towards  the  world." 

Her  voice  trembled,  the  color  of  her  face  changed. 

"Well — if  you  will  talk  such  nonsense,  Agnes,  I  must 
leave  you.  I  will  go  and  fetch  my  wife.  Would  you 
like  to  see  her?" 

"Tell  N to  come  to  me  to-day — I  must  see  him. 

I  have  a  message  for  him !"  She  said  this  with  a  sud- 
den energy  that  surprised  me,  while  her  eye  brightened 
as  it  settled  on  me.  Her  last  words  surprised  and  dis- 
turbed me.  Were  her  intellects  affected!  How  did  she 
know — how  could  she  conjecture  that  he  was  within 
reach?  I  took  an  opportunity  of  asking  the  nurse 
whether  she  had  mentioned  Mr.  N 's  name  to  her; 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  377 

but  not  a  syllable  had  been  interchanged  upon  the  sub- 
ject. 

Before  setting  out  on  my  daily  visits,  I  stepped  into 
her  room,  to  take  my  leave.  I  was  quitting  the  room, 
when,  happening  to  look  back,  I  saw  her  beckoning  to 
me.    I  returned. 

"I  must  see  N this  evening!"  said  she,  with  a  sol- 
emn emphasis  that  startled  me ;  and  as  soon  as  she  had 
uttered  the  words,  she  turned  her  head  from  me,  as  if 
she  wished  no  more  to  be  said. 

My  first  visit  was  to  Mr.  N ,  whom  I  found  in  a 

very  weak  state,  but  so  much  recovered  from  his  illness 
as  to  be  sitting  up,  and  partially  dressed.  He  was  per- 
fectly calm  and  collected ;  and,  in  answer  to  his  earnest 
inquiries,  I  gave  him  a  full  account  of  the  nature  of  Miss 
P 's  illness.  He  received  the  intelligence  of  the  fav- 
orable change  that  had  occurred  with  evident  though  si- 
lent ecstacy.  After  much  inward  doubt  and  hesitation, 
I  thought  I  might  venture  to  tell  him  of  the  parting — 
the  twice-repeated  request  she  had  made.  The  intelli- 
gence blanched  his  already  pallid  cheeks  to  a  whiter 
hue,  and  he  trembled  violently, 

"Did  you  tell  her  I  was  in  town?  Did  she  recollect 
me?" 

"No  one  has  breathed  your  name  to  her!"  I  replied. 
***** 

"Well,  doctor,  if,  on  the  whole,  you  think  so — that  it 

would  be  safe,"  said  N ,  after  we  had  talked  much  on 

the  matter — "I  will  step  over  and  see  her;  but— it  looks 
very — very  strange!" 

"Whatever  whim  may  actuate  her,  I  think  it  better,  on 
the  whole,  to  gratify  her.  Your  refusal  may  be  attended 
with  infinitely  worse  effects  than  an  interview.  How- 
ever, you  shall  hear  from  me  again.  I  will  see  if  she  con- 
tinues in  the  same  mind ;  and  if  so,  I  will  step  over  and 
tell  you." — I  took  my  leave. 

A  few  moments  before  stepping  down  to  dinner,  I  sat 

beside  Miss  P ,  making  my  usual  inquiries ;  and  was 

gratified  to  find  that  her  progress,  though  slow,  seemed 


378  THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN 

sure.     I  was  leaving,  when,   with   similar   emphasis  to 
that  she  had  previously  displayed,  she  again  said — 

"Remember !  N must  be  here  to-night !" 

I  was  confounded.    What  could  be  the  meaning  of  this 
mysterious  pertinacity?     I   felt   distracted   with   doubt, 

and  dissatisfied  with  myself  for  what  I  had  told  to  N . 

I  felt  answerable  for  whatever  ill  effects  might  ensue; 
and  yet  what  could  I  do? 


It  was  evening — a  mild,  though  lustrous  July  evening. 
The  skies  were  all  blue  and  white,  save  where  the  retir- 
ing sunlight  produced  a  mellow  mixture  of  colors  to- 
wards the  west.  Not  a  breath  of  air  disturbed  the  serene 
complacency.  My  wife  and  I  sat  on  each  side  of  the 
bed  where  lay  our  lovely  invalid,  looking  despite  her  ill- 
ness, beautiful,  and  in  comparative  health.  Her  hair  was 
parted  with  negligent  simplicity  over  her  pale  forehead. 
Her  eyes  were  brilliant,  and  her  cheeks  occasionally 
flushed.  She  spoke  scarce  a  word  to  us  as  we  sat  beside 
her.  I  gazed  at  her  with  doubt  and  apprehension.  I  was 
aware  that  health  could  not  possibly  produce  the  color 
and  vivacity  of  her  complexion  and  eyes;  and  felt  at  a 
loss  to  what  I  should  refer  it. 

"Agnes,  love ! — How  beautiful  is  the  setting  sun !"  ex- 
claimed my  wife,  drawing  aside  the  curtains. 

"Raise  me!     Let  me  look  at  it!"  replied  Miss  P 

faintly.  She  gazed  earnestly  at  the  magnificent  object 
for  some  minutes ;  and  then  abruptly  said  to  me — 

"He  will  be  here  soon?" 

"In  a  few  moments  I  expect  him.  But — ^Agnes — why 
do  you  wish  to  see  him?" 

She  sighed,  and  shook  her  head. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  Dr.  D should  accom- 
pany Mr.  N to  my  house,  and  conduct  him  up-stairs, 

after  strongly  enjoining  on  him  the  necessity  there  was 
for  controlling  his  feelings,  and  displaying  as  little  emo- 
tion as  possible.  My  heart  leaped  into  my  mouth — as 
the  saying  is — when  I  heard  the  expected  knock  at  the 
door. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  LATE  PHYSICIAN  379 

"N is  come  at  last !"  said  I  in  a  gentle  tone,  look- 
ing earnestly  at  her,  to  see  if  she  was  agitated.  It  was 
not  the  case.    She  sighed,  but  evinced  no  trepidation. 

"Shall  he  be  shown  in  at  once?"  I  inquired. 

"No — wait  a  few  moments,"  replied  the  extraordinary- 
girl,  and  seemed  lost  in  thought  for  about  a  minute. 
"Now!"  she  exclaimed;  and  I  sent  down  the  nurse,  her- 
self pale  and  trembling  with  apprehension,  to  request  the 
attendance  of  Dr.  D and  Mr.  N . 

As  they  were  heard  slowly  approaching  the  room,  I 
looked  anxiously  at  my  patient,  and  kept  my  fingers  at 
her  pulse.  There  was  not  a  symptom  of  flutter  or  agita- 
tion.    At  length  the  door  was  opened,  and  Dr.  D 

slowly  entered,  with  N upon  his  arm.     As  soon  as 

his  pale  trembling  figure  was  visible,  a  calm  and  heav- 
enly smile  beamed  upon  the  countenance  of  Miss  P . 

It  was  full  of  ineffable  loveliness !  She  stretched  out  her 
right  arm ;  he  pressed  it  to  his  lips,  without  uttering  a 
word. 

My  eyes  were  riveted  on  the  features  of  Miss  P , 

Either  they  deceived  me,  or  I  saw  a  strange  alteration — 
as  if  a  cloud  were  stealing  over  her  face.  I  was  right ! — 
We  all  observed  her  color  fading  rapidly.     I  rose  from 

my  chair;  Dr.  D also  came  nearer,  thinking  she  was 

on  the  verge  of  fainting.  Her  eye  was  fixed  upon  the 
flushed  features  of  her  lover,  and  gleamed  with  radiance. 
She  gently  elevated  both  her  arms  towards  him,  and 
he  leaned  over  her. 

"Prepare !"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  low  thrilling  tone ; — her 
features  became  paler  and  paler — her  arms  fell.  She  had 
spoken — she  had  breathed  her  last.    She  was  dead! 

Within  twelve  months  poor  N followed  her;  and, 

to  the  period  of  his  death,  no  other  word  or  thought 
seemed  to  occupy  his  mind  but  the  momentous  warning 
which  had  issued  from  the  lips  of  Agnes  P "Pre- 
pare !" 

I  have  no  mystery  to  solve,  no  denouement  to  make. 
I  tell  the  facts  as  they  occurred ;  and  hope  they  may  not 
be  told  in  vain  ! 

The  End. 


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